


heads or tails

by liknow



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Sex, Angst, Best Friends, Explicit Sexual Content, Feelings Realization, First Time, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Kink Exploration, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Minor Kim Seungmin/Seo Changbin, Porn with Feelings, Smut, Switch Han Jisung | Han, Switch Lee Minho | Lee Know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-18 04:48:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 36,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29604090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liknow/pseuds/liknow
Summary: Minho and Jisung are sick and tired of being virgins. There's an obvious solution to that.or: Two best friends decide that it only makes sense to lose their virginity together. Whatdoesn'tmake sense is the way they can't seem to keep their hands off each other after that.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 168
Kudos: 757
Collections: MINSUNG FICATHON: Round One; 2020





	heads or tails

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bitsori](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitsori/gifts).



> hi there!!!
> 
> here’s my submission for minsung ficathon, based on:
> 
> `**#P004** : Minho and Jisung are inexperienced virgins who lose their virginity with each other. They keep sleeping together to ‘practice’ so they can figure out what works for them.`
> 
> just a little warning beforehand: minho and jisung are _inexperienced virgins_ , as specified in the prompt, which means... well, they have no clue what they’re doing!! so i kindly ask that you don’t look into their smut scenes too deeply or take notes on them, because... yeah.
> 
> **on that note** : in regards to the kink exploration tag, there are a few different kinks brought into scenes, including: an attempt at _edging_ , referenced _spanking_ and _face-fucking_ , slight _exhibitionism_ and _bondage_ , and an extremely shitty attempt at _d/s roleplay_ and _degradation_. these aren’t a big part of the fic at all; it’s more plot-focused despite being told through several sex scenes, but if any of that will make you uncomfortable i’d advise against reading.
> 
> anyway!!! enjoy this mess:

"I'm serious."

 _Oh_.

Did he… hear that right?

Minho isn't sure how long he's been frozen.

"Hey, it's okay," Jisung rushes, eyes wide and panicked. "That was a stupid idea." He reaches forward and rubs Minho's shoulder apologetically, eyes shifting to stare at the older boy's bedspread as pink blooms on his cheeks. "Sorry."

It's currently god knows what time, and Minho is in bed tangled up with his best friend like he is most nights, complaining about anything and everything, as best friends do.

What best friends _don't_ do, however, is _ask_ _to_ _have sex with each other_.

It was a relatively innocent conversation at first—Jisung, being the menace that he is, was going on and on about their young chemistry professor, who, in Jisung's opinion, Minho is wildly in love with.

"All you do is drool over him!" Jisung accused, poking Minho in the chest. "And he _favors_ you. Fuckin' hates the rest of us."

"He does _not_ ," Minho argued, scoffing, "and I don't drool. He... is kind of hot, though."

"I knew it!"

Minho groaned, giving his best friend his famous blank stare as the younger squeezed his cheeks obnoxiously, both of them facing each other with their legs entwined, nothing unusual.

"You're goddamn annoying, you know that?"

Jisung giggled as though Minho had called him _adorable_ and snuggled closer. "So here's the plan—"

"Uh oh."

"I didn't even _say_ anything yet. So here's the plan: you sleep with him, he falls in love with you, he sees that I'm your best friend in the whole world, and then he passes me on the midterm."

Minho grimaced. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"What? It's _foolproof!_ "

"Sure it is," Minho said dryly, "except for the fact that he's a fucking _professor_ , and I'm a fucking _virgin_."

"Oh, come on." Jisung waved one of his hands as if to say _That's nothing!_ "Professors are weird like that. At least this one doesn't have a wife, like the one Changbin hooked up with to get him and Seungmin passing grades in—"

"Please don't remind me," Minho muttered. "How did we even get on this topic?"

"Don't know, don't care." Jisung continued to touch his cheek, causing it to heat up. "And you act like you don't complain about being a virgin every weekend."

Minho would've been bothered by the callout—if it weren't for the fact that his best friend was in the same predicament.

"Says _you_ ," he scoffed. "Why don't _you_ sleep with him, then?"

"Shit, maybe I will!" Jisung said with a laugh. "Man, I'm so sick of it. I'm ready to fuck myself at this point."

"You're a freak."

"Well, do you have a better idea? I'm telling you, Professor—"

"I'm not losing my virginity to a _professor_ ," Minho sighed, slapping a hand over Jisung's mouth to block out whatever he was about to say, then recoiling when the younger nipped at his palm. "Can you imagine? Not to be gay, but I feel like the first time should at least be somewhat meaningful."

"You _are_ gay," Jisung said, snickering. "And is the plan I gave you not meaningful? We both pass, and I never have to take chemistry again. Am _I_ not meaningful?"

"Not what I meant, Jisung." _Not at all_. "Besides, he's so..."

Jisung grinned stupidly. "Oh, so you're thinking about it, huh?"

" _No!_ I'm just saying—He's so experienced, probably, and I know literally nothing about sex—"

"But you watch porn—"

"Porn doesn't _actually_ mean shit, Jisung," Minho cut him off, giving him a light shove. "I'd just—Wouldn't you rather have your first time be with, like..."

"Another virgin?" Jisung guessed.

Minho nodded, face warming up. Sure, he and Jisung are closer than anyone he knows, and they've had all sorts of weird conversations throughout their friendship, but that didn't make him any less shy talking so openly about something so... _vulnerable_. They tend to keep these types of conversations limited to whining and complaining, so this was becoming a little strange already.

Jisung didn't look embarrassed at all, though. Instead, he smiled a soft yet devious smile, eyes sparkling with something akin to mischief. Minho narrowed his eyes.

"...What?" he questioned, wary.

"Okay, new plan. What if—" Jisung stopped to giggle, rubbing his nose against Minho's in a way that made the older boy recoil again with a dramatic gag. "What if we did it... together?"

"Huh?" Minho urged his tired brain to understand what the hell his friend was on about now, but it was hard to keep up with Jisung's chaos sometimes. "Do what?"

"You know... lose our..." Jisung started giggling again, like some _pre-teen_ who just learned the word _sex_.

"Lose our virginity together?" Minho laughed at that thought, rolling his eyes when Jisung nodded. "What, like a double date? Me and our stupid professor, but who would _you_ be with—"

"No," Jisung cut him off, shaking his head. "I mean together, like _together_."

Minho blinked, and just like that, the innocent bickering crumbled before his eyes—or _ears_ , more like.

_What the...?_

"Very funny," he said with a fake, unimpressed laugh, but for some reason, the joke was making his insides stir. They _are_ insanely close, and it wasn't the first time either of them have made a joke like that—Most of their friends make jokes about them being married on a daily basis. But Jisung had sounded so serious, for a moment Minho had almost thought he _was_ serious—

"I'm serious."

 _Oh_.

That moment—that sharp turn in what was originally a teasing conversation between best friends—is what left Minho here, dumbfounded. His mouth opens and closes a few times, and he's convinced his ears are flaming red, judging by how hot they've grown since the words left Jisung's mouth.

"Um."

_What the fuck? What the actual fuck?_

He can't think of anything else to say besides _Um_ , so he chooses to remain silent as he tries to piece his shattered brain back together.

_Sex? Together? With Jisung?_

Jisung visibly winces at his response.

"I'm sorry," he says a second time, and Minho feels guilty seeing his best friend look so terrified before his eyes, but he really, _genuinely_ has no words. "I was just, uh, just kidding."

 _I'm serious_.

"Um," Minho repeats with a swallow, blinking rapidly in an attempt to focus. "Were you, though?"

Jisung stiffens. "Uh... Yes? No? Maybe?" He rolls onto his back and stares up at the ceiling. "Just—Never mind. Let's talk about something else." He lets out a nervous laugh, hands bunching in the fabric of his own hoodie.

"I mean..." Minho butts in before he can stop himself. "You've probably had worse ideas." As soon as he speaks, he bites his lip in embarrassment, flopping onto his back to mirror Jisung's position.

The younger laughs again, but this time he sounds more incredulous than nervous. "What?"

Truth be told, Minho isn't entirely sure why he spoke up instead of letting the strange proposal fade out of his memory like Jisung suggested. There's just something—some part of his brain—that's begging him to at least keep the conversation going while he tries to process it. He has no idea how the hell to feel at the moment, but he at least wants to figure it out before he impulsively shoots the younger down.

"I just mean," he mumbles with a forced laugh, "you sounded pretty serious, and I just... I don't know. I just wanna think about it for a minute, so shut up."

He hears Jisung make a strangled noise of surprise from beside him. "Wait, you—you're actually _thinking_ about it?"

"I said _shut up_ ," Minho whines, then worriedly rolls onto his side to face Jisung. "Wait. _Were_ you kidding? Shit. Fuck."

"No, no, don't swear," Jisung says, turning onto his side again, as well. "I wasn't kidding—or maybe I was. Um. Depending on what you say?"

Minho fails to bite back a laugh. "So if I said _yes_ , you'd say you were serious, and if I said _no_ , you'd say you were kidding."

Jisung throws him a sulky look. "Well, now you're just making me seem fake."

"Because you _are_."

"Am not," Jisung grumbles, roughly shoving at Minho's shoulder so he's falling onto his back again.

" _Jeez_ , asshole. Maybe you don't deserve to fuck me."

All of a sudden, the younger shoots up into a sitting position and crawls so he's looming over Minho, staring down at him with shock written over every feature on his face. "So, are you actually, like, _on board_ with this?"

"Get out of my face!" Minho cries in embarrassment, throwing up an arm to shield his eyes. "I don't know, okay? Leave me alone."

"Leave you alone?" Jisung laughs. "So you _don't_ want to fuck?"

"I don't _know_ ," Minho growls, irritated. "Give me a second, would you? You can't just ask me to have sex and expect me to—"

"Okay, okay." Jisung retreats but stays close, lying so he’s curled up at Minho's side, a hand reaching out to rub at his friend’s stomach. "Sorry, that was a lot. Can I tell you what I think?"

Minho sighs, mentally preparing himself to be flustered by Jisung all over again. "Go on."

"Okay, so imagine this," the younger boy says. "Imagine you _do_ hook up with our professor—and you find out he's a porn star."

"What the fuck?"

" _Listen_ ," Jisung hushes. "You find out he's a porn star, which means he has... _so_ much experience. Like, he probably knows _everything_ , and you know _nothing_. And so you have no clue what you're doing, and you make a total fool out of yourself, and then he fails us on the midterm. Imagine that. Isn't that so embarrassing?"

"Yeah, it really is," Minho hisses. "That was my whole point. Why are you making me picture it again?"

"Hang on, there's more!" Jisung defends himself, nuzzling into Minho's neck. "Then there's the _other_ end of the spectrum. If you slept with someone with no experience, there would be less room to embarrass yourself, you know? Wouldn't that be better?"

"You're literally just repeating what I said," Minho replies impatiently, prepared to toss his best friend out of his apartment after riling him up so much and scrambling his brain.

"So, to _conclude_ ," Jisung says, pointedly loud to keep Minho's attention. He even grabs his chin to lock their eyes, tightening his grip when the older boy tries to squirm away with a groan. "You should sleep with _me_."

Minho glares at his best friend, still disbelieving, though he's sure his cheeks are concerningly flushed. "How the hell did you reach _that_ conclusion?"

Jisung huffs, his own cheeks red despite his assertiveness. "I'm a virgin."

"Oh, who knew?"

"Quiet!" Jisung grabs his neck in a threatening manner, making him yelp. "I'm a virgin, _and_ I'm your best friend. So now you no longer have to worry about fucking someone way more experienced than you, _and_ you don’t have to worry about fucking, I don't know, some weirdo."

" _You're_ a weirdo," Minho deadpans, trying not to give away the fact that the mental images of him and Jisung doing _that_ are making his stomach do something strange.

"God, you're so—Fine, I'll go sleep with Chan, then."

"No, wait," Minho cuts him off, still desperate to keep the conversation going, despite how abnormal it may be. "I... think I get what you mean. It... would probably be less nerve-wracking that way, wouldn't it?"

He isn't sure if he believes his own words. Sure, he's more comfortable around Jisung than anyone he's ever met, but something about the idea of sleeping with his own best friend has his nerves _skyrocketing_.

Still, he can't help but let it run circles in his brain.

"Uh huh," Jisung agrees, seeming pleased. "See? I'm not scared of _you_. It would be weird with anyone else, but if we fucked right now, it wouldn't be weird at all, honestly."

_Wouldn't it, though?_

Minho sighs, trying to stop his head from spinning so he can process the proposition—though he can't really tell if it's still on the table or if they're just hypothesizing another wild Minho and Jisung Plan™ that they'll never follow through with.

He can't decide which he'd rather be true.

Jisung opts to stay silent after that. He waits patiently, petting back Minho's hair in the meantime, which makes the older boy feel so unnaturally _flustered_ , he can hardly think straight.

"I don't _know_ ," he eventually whines, desperate to make a joke out of the whole thing so he can calm his nerves. "I think I'm kind of out of your league, aren't I?"

"Hey!" Jisung yells, landing a punch on his chest.

"Kidding, kidding." Minho pulls him further into his arms. Regardless of how disoriented he is, the last thing he wants is to _actually_ make Jisung insecure.

"You better be," Jisung mutters. He then leans in and breathes right into Minho's ear, "I _know_ you think I'm sexy."

" _Hey_ , what the hell?" Minho hisses, shivering at the sudden proximity and then rolling his eyes when he hears Jisung's laugh. "Yeah, yeah. You're a fucking meal."

Jisung lets out an amused hum, but he then pulls back and gives Minho a once-over.

"You're making jokes now. Are you getting freaked out? Should I fuck off?"

He knows Minho _far_ too well. It's a blessing and a curse.

"No, no, it's not you," Minho tells him. "I'm just kinda overwhelmed. I'm just... trying to think."

Jisung nods understandingly and tucks himself into the older boy's neck, seemingly done breathing in his ear and teasing him for the night. "How about you sleep on it, and we'll decide our fate tomorrow, or whenever you're ready?"

"Why—Why did you have to put it like that?" Minho whines, covering his eyes with his arm, but his words are followed up by a giggle that he can't hold back. "You're such a loser, Han Jisung. Now I _really_ don't wanna sleep with you."

"Quit hurting my feelings," Jisung mumbles. He cuddles Minho tighter, regardless, and lets out a pleased sound when the older boy's arm wraps around him. "You're seriously considering it, though?"

"Yeah, I am," Minho whispers, shy. "I'll—I'll think about it when my brain's finally working." He cracks open his eyes to check the digital clock on his dresser. "What the hell? It's three in the morning! Don't we have our chem lab at eight tomorrow? Wait— _Why_ are you still here?"

He now has his own small apartment just across the street from their university's campus. Jisung, on the other hand, lives in a dormitory suite with his gremlin rapper friends, Chan and Changbin. He absolutely adores the pair, and Minho does, too, but more often than not, the younger boy ends up asleep in Minho's comfy bed or on his couch. (By accident, of course.)

Like right now.

"Don't know, but I'm not leaving," he says with a yawn, tugging at Minho so he's lying on his chest. "Goodnight."

Minho sighs. "You're a nuisance."

Jisung _is_ a nuisance, but he's also Minho's favorite person in the entire world. It's been several years since they first met back in high school, when Minho transferred in as a third year, Jisung in his first. They bumped into each other one day while skipping exams, goofed around on the roof of the school, and then found themselves spending a week of detention together.

The rest was history. Even when Minho left for college—which wasn't too far, only a train ride away from home—Jisung was at his dorm every weekend. He even worked his ass off to graduate a year early so he could join his best friend on campus sooner than anticipated.

Minho never thought he would meet someone that cares about him the way Jisung does. As much as he loves to tease—as much as they _both_ do—he knows he'll never meet another person like him, someone he can trust with his entire soul. He's the brightest, most vibrant sort of star that one could sight, and Minho considers himself lucky to be illuminated by that starlight, though he hardly says as much out loud.

Maybe losing his virginity to someone like that isn't the worst idea in the world.

No, maybe it's one of Jisung's best ideas yet.

* * *

Jisung sleeps soundly through the night, hardly moving a muscle save for the sporadic kicks he aims at Minho while dreaming that have the older boy cussing tiredly and shoving him off his chest—and even _then_ , he doesn't awaken.

 _Minho_ , on the other hand, hardly sleeps at all—tonight, at least. Jisung acted so nonchalant when he made his suggestion, almost completely composed, yet here Minho is, tossing and turning like the world is coming to an end.

His first thought is that sleeping with his best friend would surely tear their entire relationship to shreds. How the hell would they move on from doing something so... _intimate?_ Surely, he wouldn't be able to look Jisung in the face after being buried in his ass—or vice versa; he doesn't mind either.

That's the next thought. _He doesn't mind_. Aside from his fretting over the potential aftermath, he can't say he's really even put off by the idea. Hell, if Jisung were a complete stranger he met at a party, Minho would probably fuck him without question.

Is that weird?

But then there's the fact that Jisung _isn't_ a stranger. He is, inarguably, Minho's everything. And Minho can't tell if that makes things better or worse. By agreeing to do something like this, he's potentially risking his _everything_. But also...

Wouldn't it be better if his first time was with someone he's one hundred percent comfortable with? Someone he knows inside out? Someone he loves?

Risks and all, he knows in his heart that there's no one better to be that vulnerable in front of. Not a stranger at a party, nor a professor, nor a future boyfriend who'll most likely be temporary.

Jisung isn't a stranger. Jisung isn't a professor. Jisung isn't temporary. He's going to be in Minho's life until the day he dies, no matter what happens. Minho knows that. So all that's left is his own feelings.

Does he _want_ this?

By the time his brain reaches that part, the sun is rising and he's delirious from exhaustion, so he gives in and allows sleep to overtake him for the few remaining hours they have until class.

He already knows the answer, anyway.

* * *

About ten minutes have passed since Minho received his _i'm free from hell, unlock your door_ text from Jisung, meaning the younger should be arriving any second.

Minho is pacing, sweating, _dying_.

Fuck. He needs to calm down.

It's hard to, though. He just finished showering, making his bed, and hiding the condoms that he nearly died from embarrassment purchasing—because, of course, the cashier at the off-campus convenience store happened to be his _lab partner_. He did all that, but what if Jisung has changed his mind about what he said last night? Or what if he didn't mean to say it at all? It _was_ three in the morning, after all, and Jisung is infamous for doing stupid things late at night.

Minho hopes this isn't just a _stupid thing_.

Finally, what feels like _eons_ later, Jisung bursts into his apartment, throwing his backpack onto Minho's sofa with a dramatic groan.

"Fuck art history," he mutters, clumsily removing his shoes before approaching Minho and burying his face in his neck, seemingly unaware of his distressed state. "I'm never going to class again. How was _your_ day?"

He wraps his arms around Minho's waist, an innocent gesture coming from him, considering how affectionate he typically is, but all Minho can think about now is Jisung doing that _without clothes on_.

Fuck. They just _have_ to do this, have to get it out of the way—if Jisung still wants to, of course.

Or else... Minho will never stop thinking about it, he's sure.

He's so caught up in his thoughts and worries, he hardly registers the fact that he's been asked a question. Jisung pulls back to look up at him with quizzical eyes.

"Hello?" He squints, expression quickly flooding with alarm. "Huh? What's wrong?"

"Nothing—" Minho starts, heading to cover up on instinct, but _no_. No, he has to get this off his chest. Now. "Actually, not nothing."

"Well?" Jisung hums, releasing his waist and poking the tip of his nose. "You look like you're about to piss your—"

"I wanna do it," Minho blurts.

Jisung cocks his head to the side. "Do what?"

 _Uh oh_. Minho's face starts to burn. What if Jisung doesn't even remember the conversation? He doesn't think the younger was _that_ out of it, but he's so goddamn _nervous_ at the moment, he can't help the way his stomach clenches.

But he's already opened this can of worms—or cracked the lid, at least. There's no going back now. At the very least, he has to _say_ it, admit to Jisung that he trusts him enough to do _that_ with him. Whether they're actually going to end up doing it or not is the next issue.

"Sex," he says, worried that his ears are turning red as they tend to when he's flustered. "I wanna... I mean, if you still..."

" _Oh!_ " Jisung yelps, startling Minho. His eyes are wide and glazed over with thoughts, thoughts that Minho wishes he can read but can't. It seems like Jisung _remembers_ the proposal, at least. That's something, right?

"I don't—I mean—" Minho babbles, then sighs. He's never awkward with Jisung, regardless of how weird the conversation is, and he doesn't want to start now. "Did you mean it? Or were you just being a tired moron?"

" _Hey_ ," Jisung whines. "I _was_ tired—not a moron, though." Minho swallows, nervous, as he waits for the rest of the answer. "Of course I meant it. Do you think I go around asking everyone to take my virginity?"

"You've asked all of our friends at least ten times," Minho points out flatly.

Jisung snorts and gives him a gentle shove. "I don't mean it when I say it to them," he says with an eye roll. His voice quiets, then. "I wouldn't lie to _you_ , though."

Minho feels his stomach flip hearing the words. It's probably the relief, relief that Jisung meant what he said, that Minho _didn't_ just make a total fool of himself in front of his best friend. Or it's the heightened nerves—now that he realizes this might actually be happening—erupting, bursting throughout his system like fireworks.

Whatever it is, it doesn't matter. What matters is he's _finally_ going to lose his virginity.

...To _Jisung_.

“Really?” he whispers dumbly, only because he doesn't know what else to say, doesn't know how to tell Jisung how prepared he is for this already. Hell, he almost fingered himself after he showered but stopped himself, unsure of whether Jisung would be on the top or bottom—if it was even _happening_.

“Yes, really,” Jisung says with a laugh, poking Minho’s nose again. “I said I wouldn’t lie to you. When do you think…?”

Minho sees a dusting of pink make its way to the younger's cheeks and smiles fondly.

“Whenever. I mean, right now would be okay for me, but I get it if you want more time—“

“ _Now?_ ” Jisung yelps, hugging Minho’s waist apologetically when the volume of his voice startles him again. “Sorry, I just—I mean, fuck. I thought you would want more time, but, _shit_. We don’t have stuff, though.” He giggles. “I mean, I'm sure you have lube somewhere, but we should probably use a condom…”

“I bought condoms."

“You did _what?_ ” Jisung’s lips part in shock. Minho cringes.

Is he coming off too eager? He probably is. What the hell is wrong with him?

“I mean,” he says with a nervous laugh, “I just… Fuck, I don’t know, okay? Don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m not laughing!” Jisung takes both of his hands in his. “Do you seriously wanna _now?_ ”

“Um… Yes?” Minho whispers, suddenly shy, but Jisung _beams_ at him.

“Shit, okay then!” he chirps. “Let’s do it. Let’s go. Take off your clothes.”

Minho gawks, pushing him away. “You're nuts."

“ _What?_ ” Jisung whines, laughing. “You said you wanted to _now_.”

“Yeah, but…” Minho huffs, dragging him toward his bedroom. “Come on. We’re not losing our virginity in the freaking doorway.”

“Why not?” Jisung mumbles, then gasps dramatically when they enter. “Your _bed_ —Your bed is made!”

“Don’t mention it,” Minho mutters.

“You got condoms _and_ made your bed. Anything else up your sleeve, sexy? Did you put in a butt plug, too?”

“Oh my god,” Minho groans, letting go of Jisung’s hand to rub at his temples. “Shut up. I’m changing my mind already.”

He isn't, not at all.

“Come on, I’m kidding.” Jisung tugs him until they're both perched on his neatly made bed. “On that note, uh... Did you want… Should I… Who's taking it up the ass?”

“You’re really eloquent, you know that?” Minho grumbles. “I mean, we’ve both… You know I own shit.” He sure does. He's put an array of things up his ass before, actually—just not a dick. “And you have your banana dildo, or whatever.”

“ _Excuse me?_ ” Jisung cries, voice shrill. Minho cracks a smile; Jisung has no clue that he stumbled upon that specific artifact while going to steal a pair of his fuzzy socks a while back. “Says _who?_ Who told you that?”

Minho bites his lip to stifle a laugh at the expression of horror painted across his friend's face. “Your _dresser_ told me.”

“Oh my god,” Jisung groans. “You’re a _creep_.”

“I didn’t mean to find it!” Minho says defensively. “You’re just bad at hiding shit. But really, a banana? Of all things?”

“That’s... none of your concern,” Jisung mumbles, averting his eyes and crossing his arms. “Okay, so we’re both clear to take it up the ass without dying, so… Where does that leave us?”

“I... don’t know.” Minho pauses to think about it, unsure of which he would enjoy more. He wants to try both, if he's being honest, but that's obviously out of the question. Having sex with his best friend _one_ time is beyond reason. Besides, they can only lose their virginity once, anyway. “I actually don’t know. Let’s flip a coin?”

“ _Flip a coin?_ Seriously, Minho?”

Minho shoots him a glare, cheeks warm. “Fine, what’s your idea, then? Rock, paper, scissors?”

“No, no. We always tie. We would never make it to the sex part. Go on, get your gay little coin that you’ve already prepared.”

“My coin isn’t _gay_ ,” Minho defends, then tenses up. “And how do you know I had it prepared?”

Jisung offers him nothing but a raised eyebrow.

He huffs in defeat, then stands and heads to open his nightstand drawer where he stashed his lube, the condoms, and... a coin. To be fair, he didn't actually expect them to need the coin, but now he's grateful that he thought ahead.

The two of them always take the same path in everything they do, always stick together, so deciding something like this—picking sides, roles, or whatever—is next to impossible for them.

"Do you wanna flip it?" Minho asks, hands shaking a little when he sits next to Jisung again. The younger boy shrugs.

"It's _your_ coin."

"All right, I will." Minho places it on his thumb, taking a deep breath, and makes his best attempt at flipping the coin…

...Only to meet instant failure. The thing slips and falls to the ground.

He gives it a look of betrayal. Jisung snickers.

"Okay, let me do it, then," the younger says with a huff, bending to grab it off the floor. "You could've just told me you don't know how to flip a coin."

"I _do_ know," Minho hisses defensively. "I'm just nervous, okay?"

Jisung pauses, turning to grab the older boy’s hand and carefully look him over.

"Are you sure you want to...?"

"I'm sure." Minho waves him off. "Better you than some stranger, or—I don't know. We're going to be virgins until we hit the nursing home, at this rate."

Jisung laughs at his dramatics, balancing the coin on the thumb of his free hand. "My thoughts exactly. Great minds think alike, don't they?"

"Or stupid minds, maybe," Minho mutters, but his eyes are focused on the coin that Jisung finally flicks. His breath hitches as he watches it tumble in the air and then smoothly land on Jisung's flat palm, much more smoothly than in his own attempt.

 _Tails_.

Wait—What does tails mean?

"Minho..." Jisung says, blinking down at his palm. He glances over, clearly stifling laughter. "...We didn't decide what was heads and what was tails."

Minho slowly meets his eyes, then instantly bursts out laughing at their collective stupidity, in spite of the nerves building a nest inside him. "Yeah, I—I just realized that."

Jisung loudly joins in, head falling to rest on his shoulder with an exasperated sigh before he composes himself once more. He hesitates for a few seconds after their laughter subsides, and Minho has a feeling that the younger is just as nervous as he is, even if he conceals it well with a dopey attitude. "Okay."

"Okay," Minho echoes, composing himself as well. "Uh. Heads—Minho tops. Tails—Jisung tops?"

"Sounds like a plan," Jisung agrees, then shakes his head disbelievingly. "I can't believe we're flipping a coin to determine how we're losing our virginity, Minho, what the fuck?"

"Well, maybe if you just chose _for_ us—" Minho starts to whine, but Jisung is already flipping the coin before he can finish. They both hold their breath, bodies stiff as rocks as the coin comes falling down, landing perfectly on the flat of Jisung's palm again.

 _Heads_.

Oh, shit.

"Oh, shit," they speak simultaneously, eyebrows raised as the results settle in on their minds. Slowly, they turn to make eye contact, then start laughing again, either out of the sheer ridiculousness of the situation or as a desperate attempt to keep an awkward silence from creeping in on them.

"You happy now, coin-flipper?" Jisung asks, tossing the thing at Minho, who dodges it with a yelp.

" _You_ were the coin-flipper, actually," Minho jokes, trying to calm himself down, but _oh god_ , he's going to be fucking his best friend—like _really_ fucking him. "Um, so, are you cool with that? Is it okay if—"

"If you dick me down? Yeah," Jisung reassures, laughing more softly now. "I'm perfectly fine with that." He ruffles Minho's hair. "Are _you?_ Should we take our clothes off, now?"

"God, calm down," Minho mumbles, blushing. "I don't know—Do we start right away? Should we—?" He hesitantly reaches toward Jisung, hands hovering by his waist like they're about to cuddle, his heart rate speeding up at the visions of what's to come.

Jisung's eyes are notably wide, but he offers a comforting smile. "Whatever you wanna do. I know what I'm doing just as much as you do, remember."

Minho laughs quietly. "Okay, let's, um—Shirts off, maybe?"

Jisung yanks his hoodie over his head within seconds, making Minho freeze as though he weren’t the one to suggest the idea. He's surprised further when Jisung goes for his _own_ shirt, next, shyly inching it up his torso while watching his eyes with caution. "Okay?"

"Yeah," Minho breathes out, letting Jisung tug it off of him without resistance, leaving them both shirtless.

They've seen each other in next to nothing— _nothing_ , even—plenty of times in the past, but seeing his best friend shirtless right now, when they're about to do _this_ , is a million times different. He slowly reaches out again, hands settling on Jisung's bare chest. "Can I—Can I touch you?"

"Well, obviously."

"Shut up," Minho whispers, then tries to gather some confidence as he sits up on his knees and scoots closer, running his fingers along Jisung's abs. It really isn't that weird of an action—they're both relatively touchy friends—but the entire context is making everything ten times more intense than it normally would be.

"Let me touch you, too?" Jisung asks softly. Minho nods, halting his fingers when Jisung moves onto his knees, too, bringing them face-to-face. His hands quickly find Minho's waist to pull him slightly closer and rub his thumbs into his bare skin, generating shocks of heat.

Minho swallows hard, trying to keep a clear head as his fingers slide up Jisung's chest, barely ghosting over his nipples before setting his hands on his shoulders. He stops, then, meeting his friend's eyes, frozen and unsure.

"Should—Should I—?" he tries, but he has no clue what he's asking, mind already going blank. Jisung smiles softly and takes a hand from his waist to pinch his cheek, making him grimace and momentarily forget about how nervous he is.

"Do whatever you wanna," Jisung tells him. "Really. I'll just tell you if it’s too much."

"All right," Minho murmurs, still unsure of himself, but he follows his gut and gently pushes Jisung to his back so he can sort of straddle him. "Making me do all the work, I guess."

Jisung giggles, but his cheeks begin to flush, and his lips part when Minho slides his hands up his chest before stopping again, heart racing.

He kind of wishes there was some sort of instruction manual called _How to Have Sex with Your Best Friend_ , because right now, he's completely clueless. The whole point of them sleeping together rather than with other people was that they would be more at ease with someone they know, someone who's on the same level of experience as them.

...Minho is not at ease in the _slightest_. His eyes flit around every part of Jisung's body, mind racing as he tries to decide where to touch. He knows Jisung enthusiastically gave him permission, but what if he changes his mind the second Minho lays a finger on him? What if he realizes Minho isn't the person to have his first time with? What if he's grossed out? What if he hates—

"Why are you acting weird?"

Minho tenses, temporarily breaking out of his panicked thoughts. "I'm not acting weird," he argues, but he knows his high-pitched voice gives him away. "I'm just—I don't know, nervous?"

"Still nervous?" Jisung hums with a frown, and Minho feels himself flush with shame. How the hell can Jisung look so _collected_ , while _he_ feels like his brain is melting into a puddle?

"Well—I just—" he starts, then groans. "For fuck's sake, Jisung, we're about to have sex for the first time." He leaves out the _with each other_. "Are you not nervous at all?"

"I mean, yeah," Jisung mumbles, watching him thoughtfully and taking one of his hands. "But it's you. And you're you."

Minho blinks, taken aback. The simple words make him unnaturally emotional, and he almost feels bad for how robotic, how impersonal he’s been acting about the whole thing. Jisung isn't just the guy he's about to have sex with; he's his best friend. His _person_.

He softens. “You’re right. Come here, loser.”

As soothing as Jisung's words were, he still feels his heart zoom when he pulls the younger up and onto his lap, shifting back and taking him in with wide eyes.

"I'm not a loser," Jisung grumbles, but there's no bite to his words, and his eyes are focused on where Minho's hands are ghosting along his waistband as he tries to figure out how the hell he's going to go about seducing his best friend. He inhales deeply, brushing his fingers over Jisung's crotch.

"Go ahead," the younger murmurs, likely sensing his caution.

Minho swallows, then gives in and palms over Jisung's dick. It's half-hard already. Really, it isn't all that weird for either of them to be turned on already; they _are_ horny college students, virgins at that, about to have sex for the first time. But still, feeling Jisung's bulge somehow makes the nervous tension take a leave from his body.

"Forgot how big your dick was," he whispers after a moment, grinning when Jisung lets out a loud laugh. The easygoing atmosphere gives him the confidence to keep going, so he curls his fingers around his dick curiously, feeling him through his pants.

"How could you ever forget?" Jisung teases, then gasps quietly when Minho touches him more firmly. Minho instantly snaps his head up to stare at the younger with wide eyes, caught off-guard by the soft noise. Jisung gazes back, face reddening. " _What?_ " he cries, audibly embarrassed. "You're _groping_ my _dick_."

"Just surprised me," Minho laughs, flustered, though he's happy that their normal banter is present even with his hand on Jisung's crotch.

"Uh huh. How about I touch _your_ dick and we see how quiet _you_ are?" Jisung mumbles, falling to his back before Minho can respond and bringing the older boy into a straddling position again. Minho yelps in shock, then lets out a chokednoise when Jisung's hand brushes over his crotch.

" _Ha_."

"Wha—Don't laugh at me!" Minho yelps, but he can't find it in himself to be annoyed when Jisung touches him harder, sending heat down his spine.

"When's the last time someone touched your dick?"

"I can't remember," Minho says with a laugh, shyly pushing his hips forward and trying to ignore the fact that it's _Jisung's_ hand he's grinding against. "Drunk, at a party, at some point."

"No wonder you're so sensitive."

"Fuck off— _Ah._ "

"What was that?"

Minho hisses, both at the stimulation of Jisung's fingers wrapping around him through his sweatpants and at the taunting.

"When's the last time someone touched _yours_ , huh?" he asks, knowing the answer is _Never_ , and the farthest Jisung has ever gone with anyone is grinding through clothes, drunk, at a party.

God, even their _combined_ experience sucks.

"Thirty seconds ago," Jisung retorts with a shit-eating grin. His smile only grows when Minho is too worked up to continue, rutting against Jisung's hand with his shame halfway out the door already.

He then decides he's given the younger far too much power, so he follows his gut instincts and moves back a little so he's hovering right above Jisung's crotch, knees placed on either side of the younger boy's waist. Jisung gives him a curious look, hand stopping for a moment while Minho settles down, then cries out softly when he grinds down on him.

" _Shit_."

"This isn't so bad," Minho whispers, eyes fluttering shut. He feels his stomach flip at the sound of Jisung's sharp breaths, which escape his lungs every time Minho moves against his lap.

"Were you expecting it to be bad?"

" _No_ ," Minho says with a giggle, eyes opening again. He's relieved when he finds that he can still look Jisung in the face comfortably, even in this position. "But, come on, you can't tell me you weren't worried to do all this with me."

"I mean, I guess," Jisung says, staring up at him softly and giving him a small smile when he moans quietly at another hard touch over his crotch. "Why'd you agree, though, if you're that worried?"

There are about a million answers to that question, and Minho probably doesn't know half of them. He settles for the least embarrassing one.

"I'd—I'd rather humiliate myself in front of you than in front of a sexy professor, or whatever," he mutters, partially telling the truth. He keeps the _I trust you more than anyone, and there's no one I'd be more comfortable doing this with_ to himself. "Plus, you're just as embarrassing as me, if not more."

"Hey, now," Jisung huffs, but his voice is too breathy to sound annoyed as Minho continues to grind down on him, making him grow rock hard beneath him. "Fuck, this feels good. You _look_ good. You'd look good riding me."

Minho raises his eyebrows and stops moving, heat creeping up his neck at the unexpected praise. "...Do you wanna flip the coin again?"

"No!" Jisung gives an embarrassed laugh, waving him off. "No, I was just saying. You can do that with whoever you sleep with next." He winked.

"True. I'll find someone in the nursing home to ride, I'm sure."

"Oh, come on." Jisung smacks his thigh. "That won't happen. You're hot."

Minho _knows_ he's hot, but hearing it right now makes him a little shy anyway.

Jisung throws his head back when he swivels his hips, curiously picturing what the younger said. He's plenty excited to bury his dick in his best friend—well, as excited as one can be to do that—but he can't help but space out and wonder what it would be like the other way around.

Jisung taps his thigh after not too long. "Okay, my dick is plenty hard, and so is yours. Let's get the show on the road. Unless you want to keep stalling?" he teases, though the underlying concern in his voice is more than obvious.

Minho _is_ stalling, but not because he's hesitant about his decision. Mostly just because he thinks he might black out if he sees his best friend's dick hard against his stomach, hard because of _him_.

Surely anyone would.

He nods. "Sure. Let's rip the band-aid off."

Jisung scoffs at his wording. "Am I ugly, or something?"

"Shut up," Minho says between giggles, slowly moving off of his lap. "You're sexy as hell."

"That's more like it."

He sits off to the side, watching with wide eyes as the younger wastes no time in pushing down his pants and boxers, and _holy shit._

He's hard and leaking, and _holy shit._

Is this really happening right now?

"What?" Jisung cries out when Minho only continues to stare, eyes bulging. "Was this not the plan? Were we supposed to fuck with our clothes on?"

Minho averts his eyes sheepishly.

"No, I was just admiring your big dick. Sorry."

Jisung snorts. "Oh, okay. Thanks. Let me see yours, now."

Minho bites his lip, standing from the bed and approaching his nightstand to grab the lube and a condom so he won't have to later—and also trying to take his sweet time before Jisung sees him naked. It _is_ his best friend he's doing this with, but he can't help but be insecure despite the fact.

That insecurity dissipates the moment he comes back over to the bed and slowly pushes down his own sweatpants and boxers, ears burning at the sight of Jisung's mouth falling open.

"Jesus," the younger whispers. "You're hot."

" _Stop_ ," Minho whines, flustered, though the words both comfort him and send his ego out of the universe. He swallows hard as he crawls back onto the bed, even shyer than before. How can he not be? He's in bed with his best friend, _naked_. "Should, I..." he starts, gesturing to the bottle of lube, but he's cut off with a gasp coming from his own throat when Jisung wraps his fingers around his cock. " _Fuck!_ "

"Sorry, you were saying?" Jisung teases, looking both amused and awed, eyes locked on Minho's erection. Minho only whines quietly, hips jerking forward without his permission. Once again, he forgets to be nervous, lost in the pleasure wrapping around him.

"God, you're annoying," he huffs. "Do you wanna— _Fuck_ , Jisung, knock it off. Do you wanna finger yourself, or should I?"

Jisung finally lets go of his dick to squint at him. "I think you should," he says. "I mean, are you just gonna sit there and watch? Do you not wanna do it?"

"No, that's not it." Minho averts his eyes. "I just... haven't fingered anyone before."

"Hey, it's fine," Jisung soothes, reaching to grab his hand and interlock their fingers. "No one's ever fingered _me_ before. We're both sad, pathetic virgins, remember? We got this."

Minho can't help but laugh at the attempted pep talk. He squeezes Jisung's fingers back as a silent thank you. "I guess you're right. Just tell me if I fuck up."

"I'm sure you'll do fine," Jisung says with a smile, lying back against the pillows casually. "How often do you finger yourself? Probably enough to know what you're doing."

"That's none of your business," Minho grumbles, then adds, "I know what I'm doing."

"I thought so." Jisung grins at him. "Okay, come on. I'm horny."

Minho's body flushes hot at the fact that this is beginning to evolve from a _Let's fuck so we can say we aren't virgins anymore_ arrangement into a _Let's fuck because we're turned on and it'll feel good_ arrangement. It's weird, extremely weird to hear the words from his best friend, to _see_ him like this, but it feels oddly safe.

He's starting to realize that he doesn't just want to take Jisung's virginity as a favor or a convenience; he wants to make him _feel_ _good,_ so seeing the younger's cock leaking against his stomach pleases him.

With a deep breath, he begins to spread the lube across his fingers, taking the time to warm it up and convincing himself that he's no longer afraid of messing up.

He _is_ afraid of messing up, but when Jisung's legs part invitingly for him, showing off the smooth, shaven skin of his thighs and the hole that _Minho's dick will be inside of_ , he no longer feels hesitant.

"You're so pretty," he murmurs without meaning to, then smiles when he sees Jisung's thighs tense in response.

"I know for a fact that you didn't just call my asshole pretty."

"I didn't!" Minho laughs, tearing his eyes from Jisung's ass to glare at him. " _You're_ pretty. Not just your ass."

"Thanks," Jisung replies dryly, but he's visibly shyer than he was when they started this. "Wanna stick your fingers up my pretty ass, now?"

"God," Minho groans, scowling at the choice of words, "you're really impatient. You know I could just leave you and go fuck our professor instead."

"You would _not_ ," Jisung growls, kicking at Minho's thigh. "You're so hard right now, it's adorable."

"Hey!" Minho cries, body heating up, though he can't deny it. He decides the best way to shut Jisung up is to get on with things, so he timidly scoots forward so he's kneeled between Jisung's thighs and gently pushes them further apart with his clean hand. "Can I?"

"Knock yourself out," Jisung says softly, squirming around as Minho brings his fingers down to his hole, just feeling it at first, then inhaling sharply when he feels Jisung tense at his touch. " _Shit_."

"Okay?"

"Yeah."

Minho takes a deep breath before he slowly slides one finger in, _one finger into his friend's ass_ , and watches, intrigued, as it goes all the way in with ease. For a moment, he just stares in shock, but then Jisung subtly moves his hips to press it in deeper, reminding him of his mission.

He starts to move his hand carefully, secretly wondering if it would've been less awkward if they played music or something, but when Jisung's breathing speeds up and hitches a little, he decides that the silence is just fine. Comforting, really.

"I can take two," Jisung soon tells him. Minho analyzes his expression warily, not believing him at first, but after a few more gentle thrusts, he hesitantly slips in a second finger and watches with parted lips as it goes in almost as easily, though the stretch is more apparent now.

"Damn," he says under his breath. "You put that banana to good use, huh?"

"Oh, shut the fuck up," Jisung grits out, tossing his head back with a laugh, but he's then _moaning_ , moaning softly when Minho starts to thrust the two digits now. Minho shudders at the noise; he's pretty sure he'll _never_ get used to hearing that come from his best friend's mouth.

"Feel good?" he murmurs, and he doesn't mean it teasingly this time. Jisung nods enthusiastically, so he continues to move his fingers in and out, speeding them up a little, knowing from personal experience that he probably doesn't feel much stimulation yet. "Wonder how quickly I can find your prostate."

"With your tiny little fingers? Maybe not at all," Jisung tells him with a grin, leading him to halt his movements and glower at the younger.

"Challenge accepted," he says, cocking his head to the side and tightly setting his jaw. He starts to thrust more steadily, keeping a mild pace but furrowing his eyebrows in concentration as he experiments with different angles. No luck, still. Jisung giggles at his defeated sigh, which only serves to make him _more_ determined.

"It's okay, silly," he says, reaching to hold Minho's free hand. "It feels good."

"Whatever," Minho mutters, beginning to speed his thrusts, mostly just following what he normally does when he's getting off. "Does it hurt at all?"

"Nope," Jisung says. "You're doing well. Probably would've been fine with our professor, honestly, except... He'd be the one bending you over, wouldn't he?"

"Please, just let it go," Minho groans, narrowing his eyes. "I don't wanna picture that right now."

"I didn't _tell_ you to picture it," Jisung says, cheeky. "Man, if you moan his name while we're fucking, I'll be offended."

Minho's face flames; he has no clue how Jisung can talk like that, talk so casually about what's to come.

Is Jisung asking him to moan _his_ name? He thinks about the reverse, about his own name coming off the younger's tongue like that, and he feels a shock in his core so intense that his fingers stutter, and then Jisung _does_ moan his name.

" _Fuck_ , Minho," he grits out, more of a hiss than a moan, but it has Minho's eyes popping out of their sockets, nonetheless. "God. Fuck. I stand corrected."

"Huh?" Minho hums, distracted by the sound of his name flying out of Jisung's mouth like that, but then he feels around with his fingers and realizes he's found what he was looking for. " _Aha!_ "

He grins in victory, wasting no time in pressing his fingers up against the spot, pride filling him from head to toe when Jisung cries out louder, thighs spasming.

"Okay, okay, third finger," the younger huffs. "I'm a little virgin, remember? Don't make me come yet."

"It feels that good?" Minho questions, genuinely curious. Sure, he's done things on his own before, but he assumes it must be a vastly different experience with someone else in charge. Again, his mind wanders to the roles being reversed at some point, but he shakes the thought away, trying to focus on the present.

"Yes, dumbass. Another."

Minho complies, sliding in his third slicked up finger, mouth falling open in shock at how much more intense the stretch is. He stops midway, worried that Jisung is hurting, but the younger only gives him a reassuring smile.

"Hurt?"

"Nah, it's just... a stretch," Jisung replies, his breaths heavier now. "Just go slow."

"Got it," Minho says. He carefully inserts his fingers the rest of the way, amazed at the heat surrounding him. "Wow, it's tight."

"Well. It's an asshole."

Minho laughs, focusing hard as he moves again slowly, trying to aim for Jisung's bundle of nerves again to keep him more comfortable, despite the fact that he claims to feel fine.

Luckily, he finds it more speedily than last time. Jisung whines, back arching off the bed when he first brushes against it, once again catching Minho off-guard. He subconsciously slows his fingers, staring at Jisung's pleasure-stricken face in awe.

"Don't stop!" Jisung yelps and grinds his hips down. Minho tenses, alarmed at how desperate the younger suddenly is in comparison to how collected he's been.

"Okay, okay," he rushes, thrusting his fingers carefully but curling them up without hesitation.

The sounds falling from Jisung's lips, the soft gasps and whines, make his insides tie into knots. He supposes it must be the pride that he's able to make Jisung feel good like this, that he's gone this far without screwing anything up.

However, he's relatively experienced in fingering, at least on his own. He's never dicked himself down, on the other hand, so when it comes to that part, he's sure he's going to be clueless out of his mind.

"Feels so good," Jisung groans. He squirms a little, throwing Minho a glare. "Stop fucking rubbing my prostate before I come and foil our plans."

Ah, yes. Their _plans_.

"What should I do, then?" Minho mutters, trying to angle his fingers away from the sensitive spot but still thrusting steadily, relieved that the stretch doesn't feel as intimidating as it first did.

"Oh, I don't know, put your dick in there?"

"Already?" Minho chokes. His heart starts pounding suddenly, the fact that he's probably minutes away from losing his virginity hitting him like a train. "Just... a few more minutes, okay?"

Jisung hums supportively but tilts his head, eyeing Minho carefully. "Second thoughts?"

"No," Minho says with confidence. "No, I want to. I'm just... _Holy shit_ , you know?"

"I guess so," Jisung says with a giggle. "This is kind of crazy, huh?"

"You're _just_ realizing that?"

"Hey, we really don't have to do this." Jisung's voice is stern as he squeezes Minho's hand again. "I mean, I stand by what I said. I think this is a genius idea. But if you're not ready, or you don't want to do this with me, it's okay. Just tell me, and I'll go jerk off in your bathroom or something."

"No, no, no," Minho says, shaking his head. "I really do want to. I'm just trying to wrap my head around the fact that we're going to wake up as sad, pathetic _non-virgins_ tomorrow."

(Plus the fact that he fucked his best friend.)

"We'll celebrate!" Jisung cheers, hissing when Minho accidentally brushes his fingers against his prostate again. "Take all the time you need, but, whenever you're ready."

Minho laughs abashedly at Jisung's enthusiasm even in this context. He decides to stop avoiding the inevitable, giving a few more thrusts for his own comfort—not wanting to hurt Jisung at all—and slowly removes his fingers.

"Here goes nothing," he whispers, a mixture of nervousness and excitement swirling in the pit of his stomach as he crawls over to grab the condom packet.

"Minho, really," Jisung says with a cautious laugh. "You talk like you're walking toward your grave. Are you sure about this?"

Minho drops the condom to meet Jisung's eyes.

Nerves and all, he's never been so sure of a decision in his life.

"I'm sure," he says, trying to convey all of his feelings through his gaze. "I really, really am."

"Okay," Jisung whispers, visibly taken aback by the intense response. "Me too. Get your dick over here, then."

"Never mind, I want out," Minho jokes, but he's already tearing open the condom packet and tugging the protective covering onto his dick. He then swallows.

Holy shit.

"You're cute when you're nervous," Jisung comments while Minho begins to slick himself up with lube. He looks up and glares, but the praise spurs him on, nonetheless. He exhales deeply, closing the lid on the bottle and shuffling over to sit between Jisung's legs again.

 _Holy shit_.

"Shit, what the hell am I doing?" he mutters, eyes flickering between his dick and Jisung's ass. He's not stupid, he _swears_ he's not, but he suddenly can't fathom how the hell he's going to go about this.

And Jisung spread out, watching his every move, isn't helping clear his head at all.

"I could turn over."

For a moment, Minho wants to cheer _Yes, yes!_ The position would keep Jisung's eyes off of him, ease more of his nerves, help him make it through this more successfully.

But he remembers what he said the night before about how the experience should be _meaningful_.

Putting Jisung on his stomach, or knees or whatever, to avoid facing him and avoid the overall reality of the situation... That would take all the meaning out of it.

"I think you should stay like this," he says quietly. "Only if that's okay with you, though. Do you think it'll be uncomfortable?"

Jisung shakes his head. "No, it looks comfy in porn."

"For the last time, _porn_ isn't _real_."

"It is real!" Jisung argues. "But seriously, I'll stay like this. It's more, I dunno, cheesy. Isn't that what you want?"

Minho flushes. "Do you not want that?"

"No, I do," Jisung tells him, grinning up at him. "Get over here, little virgin."

"Shut up," Minho whispers, still frantically trying to figure out what he's doing. "Uh... Pillow?"

"Pillow," Jisung agrees, reaching over and grabbing one of Minho's pillows to slide under his hips. "All set?"

Minho nods, heart slithering up his throat as he moves to loom over Jisung, holding himself up on one hand while the other wraps around his own dick.

Holy shit _. Holy shit._

"I'm sorry if I suck at this," he whispers. "Please don't hate me."

"Hey, now," Jisung says with a gentle laugh, reaching up to squeeze one of Minho's shoulders. "Never. You're my best friend in the entire world, got it? There's honestly no one else I'd rather do this with."

Minho's breath catches in his throat, Jisung's words mirroring his exact thoughts. That's all the reassurance he needs, all the convincing he needs that he's ready to do this, that he's _meant_ to do this.

He responds with a shy smile, then shifts on his knees, lowering his hips so he can press the tip of his cock inside.

 _Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit_.

"Oh, shit, fuck," Jisung breathes, mirroring Minho's thoughts once again. His hand squeezes at the older boy's shoulder still, legs parting more. "Keep going."

Minho lets out a stuttered breath, eyes squeezing shut as he presses in further, because Jisung is so _tight_ , so much tighter and hotter than he felt around his fingers, and Minho is already convinced that this is the most euphoric thing he'll ever experience.

"Oh my god," he whispers, lowering himself to his elbows once he's bottomed out and pushing his face in Jisung's neck, completely overwhelmed. He's caught between staying buried there forever, hugging onto his best friend for dear life, or pulling out and fucking both of their brains out.

He opts for the first option, minus the forever. It's going to take at least a minute for him to remember how to move, how to _think_ about moving, and based on his rapid breaths, Jisung needs just as much time to adjust.

"Fuck," the younger breathes, hands snaking around Minho's waist. His legs part a little further, somehow pulling Minho in deeper and making them both whine softly. "It's tight, huh?"

"Very," Minho says into his neck with a breathy laugh. He musters the strength to pull away and search Jisung's eyes. "Is it painful?"

"Not at all," Jisung says, face more flushed than Minho has ever seen it. "It's just—a lot."

"Yeah," Minho agrees, and suddenly there's a goofy smile playing on his lips. He already forgets what it was like to be nervous. Hell, he hasn't even _moved_ , yet this is the greatest he's ever felt.

"What are you grinning for, dumbass?" Jisung laughs, squeezing his arms around him.

"My dick is in your ass."

Jisung tosses his head back with an even louder laugh. "Oh my god. I can't believe this is the guy I'm losing my virginity to."

"No take-backs," Minho sings. "You're stuck with me for life."

"Like I wasn't already," Jisung says, meeting his eyes again fondly. "Try to move."

"Okay," Minho whispers, growing a little nervous again, but he gasps _loud_ when he starts to pull out, only an inch or two, and pushes back in experimentally. "Oh, fuck."

"God," Jisung whispers. "God, okay. Let me get my shit together."

"Take your time," Minho replies, having none of his shit together himself.

"Mm, just—Here." Jisung hooks his legs over Minho's hips, basically latched onto him like a koala now, and uses his thighs to tug him in closer, causing them both to whimper. "Just move your hips a little without pulling out."

Minho complies, grinding his hips slightly, and _holy fuck_.

"That— _Shit_ ," he breathes. "That feels good."

"Uh huh," Jisung agrees, closing his eyes and snaking a hand between their bodies to wrap around his own cock while Minho continues to grind into him. "Ah, _fuck_."

"Let me touch you," Minho offers, holding himself up on one hand again and pushing Jisung's hand out of the way so he can wrap his own fingers around the younger's cock. "Does this make it more comfortable?"

"I think so, yeah," Jisung says, well, _moans_ , more like. "Shit, okay, move. You can move."

Minho inhales deeply, pulling out a few inches again and then thrusting back in, crying out loud. "Fuck."

"God, Minho," Jisung whispers, whimpering when the older boy continues stroking his cock. "Okay, okay. Stop touching me, actually, or I'll literally come in the next ten seconds."

Minho giggles quietly, but happily pulls away so he can hold himself up on both arms and thrust in again. He moans at the sensation, Jisung crying out as well.

Why the _hell_ hasn't he done this before?

"Oh my god," he breathes as he begins to move steadily. He's convinced that he's doing a crappy job and looks absolutely ridiculous hovering over Jisung like this, but on the bright side, the younger has nothing to compare him to. Except for porn, maybe.

"You're—You're doing great," Jisung tells him, as if reading his mind. The praise makes him whine and thrust in harder, sending Jisung's head tossing back, a soft cry escaping his throat.

"You are, too," he replies, despite the fact that Jisung is pretty much just lying there doing nothing. Still, he imagines he must be feeling a _lot_ , a lot more than he would with a banana dildo. "Can you believe we aren't sad, pathetic virgins anymore?"

Jisung moans after a particularly quick thrust, though still manages to grin up at him. "Nah, we still are. Doesn't count until we come."

"Is that a challenge?" Minho grits out, moving back to his elbows now that his arms are beginning to ache.

"Do your best," Jisung answers with an airy laugh. "God, I'm not gonna last, like, at all. This is the most intense shit I've ever felt in my life."

"Same here. People do this every day?"

"Kudos to them. I'd die."

Minho smiles fondly, finding it easier to control his thrusts now that he's lowered. He feels his throat close up when Jisung gazes back up at him, the most raw, emotional expression he's ever seen. For a moment, he stops moving, the sudden urge to kiss the younger hitting him—Not in a romantic way, really, just as a sort of addition to the experience.

But he's not sure if that would make things weird—weirder than they already are, at least. He has a feeling that it will, so he instead asks, "Can I kiss your neck?"

Jisung blinks up at him in surprise but quickly nods. "Go for it."

He wastes no time, nuzzling into Jisung's neck like earlier, pulling out and fucking into him with more confidence now as he messily kisses his skin.

"Minho, _fuck_ ," Jisung moans, limbs tightening around his torso, nails digging into his skin. "Holy shit."

He whines at the sound of his name falling from Jisung's lips like this, sucking softly at his neck as a distraction. "Fuck," he breathes. "You feel so _good_ , fuck."

Jisung only chokes out a noise, and a soft _Faster_ that Minho nearly misses.

He pulls back from the younger's neck to meet his eyes again, almost gasping at how much pinker his cheeks have become. "Fa-Faster?"

Jisung nods eagerly, so he complies, thrusting twice as quickly and moaning embarrassingly loud—though he's not too embarrassed, considering Jisung's noises are just as loud. "Oh, fuck."

"Ji-Jisung," he groans, briefly wondering if saying Jisung's name has the same effect on the younger as the reverse does for him, then smiling to himself when he sees his pupils dilate and mouth fall open.

"Feels good— _Fuck!_ " Jisung cries, eyes screwed shut. Minho whimpers in response, dropping down to press his forehead against the younger's, practically too overwhelmed to keep himself upright. Jisung gasps, but he shows no signs of protest, only digging his fingers into Minho's skin and crying out again.

Minho swallows hard, continuing to thrust and losing himself in the tight heat surrounding him. He squeezes his eyes shut, afraid that he'll end up doing something he regrets if he sees Jisung this close up, but he keeps their foreheads together, lets their stuttered breaths mingle.

It almost feels more intimate than kissing, he thinks to himself, makes his heart swell and his stomach burst.

God, Jisung is his favorite person in the world.

"I don't—I don't think I'll last long," he admits, trying to laugh, but it comes out as more of a whimper. It's an understatement, honestly; he's using all of his strength to keep himself from exploding right here and now.

"Me neither, don't worry," Jisung whispers back, warm breath hitting Minho's lips. Minho gets the feeling that the younger's eyes aren't closed anymore, so he dares to crack open his own, and suddenly his lungs don't work.

Jisung's eyes are there, _right_ there, glassy and staring straight into his. His cheeks are flushed, skin shining with a thin layer of sweat, forehead scorching and pressed comfortably against Minho's, the tips of their noses brushing slightly with every thrust.

Before he knows it, Minho is moaning, sharp and high-pitched, his hips stuttering hard into Jisung as he comes into the condom, _far_ sooner than he would've liked.

"Fuck, _fuck!_ " he cries, tears springing to his eyes at the intense wave that passes over his body, nearly causing him to collapse against Jisung, though he forces himself to stay upright.

"Holy shit, Minho," Jisung chokes out. His hand snakes down to jerk himself off, but Minho beats him to it, wrapping around his cock tightly and stroking him hard and fast while he continues to grind into the younger and ride out his orgasm—the most powerful one he's ever felt. " _Shit_."

"Come on," Minho coaxes, thumbing over Jisung's cock and whining at how sensitive he feels inside the younger after coming. "Jisungie."

"Minho," Jisung nearly sobs in response, back arching off the mattress and head tipping his head back, causing Minho's face to drop back down his neck. He presses more kisses there as the younger comes hard over his hand, legs squeezing his hips so tight it hurts and fingernails digging harshly into his skin.

Minho chokes out a gasp into his neck, feeling as though he's coming all over again just feeling _Jisung_ come. "Holy fuck."

He finally stops grinding his hips, letting out the deepest sigh to ever leave his mouth, practically drooling onto Jisung's neck at this point. Jisung stays silent, as well, breathing hot and heavy into his ear as he recovers from his high.

After gathering all the courage he can find, Minho swallows and pushes himself up onto his hands, both shaky and one of them coated in cum, but all he can care about at the moment is his best friend.

His best friend, who he just _had sex with_.

"Hey," he breathes, then smiles wide when he sees Jisung's own blissed out smile. One tear sits on Jisung's cheek, probably having escaped during his orgasm, and Minho struggles to hold himself up with one arm so he can wipe it away. "How do you feel?"

"Amazing," Jisung groans after a moment. "You?"

Minho nods wordlessly, eliciting a laugh from the younger. "Should—Should I pull out now?"

"Slowly," Jisung instructs, opening his legs to make it easier for Minho to slide out. " _Shit_. That was insane."

"Good kind of insane?" Minho checks, worried the best thing he's ever experienced wasn't nearly as good for his friend.

" _Yes_ , good," Jisung answers. "Come here."

He hardly waits for Minho to finish pulling out before he pulls him flat against his chest and hugs him tight. Minho cries out in surprise but melts against him, warmth flowing through every part of his body now.

"That felt so good," he whispers into Jisung's neck. He can't even find it in himself to be embarrassed about how needy he was, or how he came before Jisung did, or how he's currently cuddled up to his best friend like a big baby. "So good."

"Good indeed," Jisung whispers, patting his head affectionately. "I'm never walking again, by the way, so whenever your legs work, can you get me some water?"

Minho laughs into his skin. "Coming right up."

They're cuddled up again about fifteen minutes later, this time clean, clothed, and on Minho's couch.

"Sheets are in the washing machine," the older boy announces, exhausted, and picks up the cup ramen he heated up just minutes ago, Jisung's already half-finished.

As declared earlier, Jisung didn't take a single step, demanding that Minho carry him to the bathroom to clean up, then to the couch to knock out. They're both dressed, Jisung in a pair of his boxers that he left at Minho's place sometime and a borrowed long-sleeved shirt, Minho in boxers and nothing else, body still feeling like a heater.

He's never felt better, heat and all.

"Holy shit," he says for the nth time once he places his finished ramen cup on his coffee table, head dropping to Jisung's shoulder. "That really happened."

"It really did, huh?" Jisung hums, arms hugging Minho at the waist. Minho feels him tense, then. "You're not, like, regretting it, are you?"

"Is that a joke?" Minho lifts his head so he can press their foreheads together. "No. Not at all. I feel so good right now, I don't even feel real."

Jisung smiles, rubbing their noses together in a way that would normally make Minho pull away with a scowl, but he can't be bothered right now, unusually emotional and clingy.

"Thank god for me and my genius brain, then."

"Don't take all the credit," Minho grumbles, moving to lie on his back and bringing Jisung with him. "I'm the one that got the condoms. And the coin."

"God, your stupid coin," Jisung groans, nuzzling into Minho's neck. "That coin was out to get my ass. I don't even know if my legs will work in time for class tomorrow."

" _Seriously?_ " Minho asks. "Oh, come on. You're so dramatic. I bet you just want an excuse for me to carry you around campus like that time you pretended to sprain your ankle."

"Hey, it really hurt!" Jisung defends. "And I'm not being dramatic, you piece of shit." He pinches Minho's side, causing him to yelp. "Why don’t we flip the damn coin again and see _you_ try to function after getting your ass destroyed?" He scoffs. "God, you'd be even worse than me, I bet."

Minho almost speaks up, almost asks if they can try that. But he can tell Jisung's only joking, and he doesn't want to ruin the mood by asking something totally out of pocket, especially when he's feeling this elated, so he bites his tongue and giggles instead.

"Whatever, whatever," he says. "I'll carry you if you really need me to. But are you actually okay?"

"Never better," Jisung reassures. "Thank you for... for that. Thank you for trusting me."

"Better you than a professor, right?" Minho jokes, in an attempt to get rid of the tightness in his throat. His emotions are off the walls, now, probably as a result of the intimacy he just experienced. It's annoying, really.

"Fuck you," Jisung scoffs, halfheartedly punching his chest. Minho only giggles, hugging his best friend tighter.

But he wasn't joking. There’s no one, no one in the world, better for him than Jisung. And right now, that knowledge wraps around him tight, suffocating him in the best way possible. He's grateful, _beyond_ grateful.

He doesn’t need anything more.

* * *

He needs something more.

At first, he tries to ignore it. A week passes after he and Jisung lose their virginity to each other, and against all of Minho's deepest fears, they’re perfectly fine, _better_ than fine. Even after all they've been through, Minho has never felt so close to his best friend before.

He figures it has something to do with being buried balls-deep in him. Realistically, they can't get much closer than that.

However, there’s something crawling up Minho’s spine, an itch he can’t scratch. And the longer he tries to ignore it, the more it troubles him.

“Hey.”

He inhales sharply at the sound of Jisung’s voice, coming from his phone, then tenses, unsure of what to say.

He’s shaking. Shaking and _hard_.

He thought he was doing a fine job pretending that _itch_ isn’t there, but then he dozed off for a few minutes while studying, then woke up leaking into his sweatpants, then realized he’s fucked.

Realized he _wants_ to be fucked.

So, without thinking _at_ _all_ , he picked up his phone, dialed Jisung’s number, and waited in painful silence.

“Minho? You there?”

The regret of his impulsivity sets in immediately.

“Um, hey,” he chokes out. That’s all he can manage before his brain goes into lockdown.

“What’s wrong?” Jisung asks, and Minho almost groans at how easily the younger can read him.

“Well, uh…” Minho says.

Fuck. _Fuck_. Why didn’t he plan out what he was going to say before he called?

No—Why did he call in the first place?

“Come on, you’re scaring me,” Jisung says with a laugh, but he doesn't sound too amused. “Seriously, what’s up? Just tell me.”

Minho takes in a shaky breath.

How exactly does he tell his best friend that his subconscious accidentally conjured something explicit, and now he feels like he’s going to lose his mind if they don’t have sex again?

How? How does he tell him?

“Uh,” he repeats. “Well, I was just thinking…”

He _wasn’t_ thinking, actually. Not at all.

“Thinking what?”

There are about a million different things Minho could’ve done to avoid this situation. He could’ve jerked off, could’ve taken a cold shower and called it a day. Or he could’ve avoided falling asleep entirely, seeing that that’s what led him into his current predicament.

He could’ve never had sex with Jisung in the first place.

But he doesn’t regret that part. All he regrets is the painful silence coming through the phone and the even more painful confinement of his boxers.

He thinks back to how he felt when he told Jisung he wanted to have sex the week before. Jisung had _asked_ him, pitched the idea _himself_ , and Minho still felt like he was one step from passing out when he told him that he wanted to do it.

Now, with _no_ proposal from Jisung, not even the slightest sign that the younger wants to do more, he feels one step from passing _away_.

“Well, it’s just, um…”

He stops speaking after that.

“Baby, what is it? Do you feel okay? Do you need a doctor or something?”

Minho doesn’t process the questions, zones out the second the _baby_ hits his ears. Jisung always calls his friends baby, every day without fail, and Minho is no exception to that agenda.

But right now? When he’s straining in his sweatpants, leaking out, mind plagued with images he never expected to see before?

He nearly _moans_.

" _Minho?_ Are you there?”

“I’m—I’m fine. Just, I just. I forgot what I had to say.” He forces a laugh, then keeps speaking before Jisung can detect his dishonesty. “Ah, I’m so tired. I’m going to bed.” He hangs up.

He hasn’t forgotten anything, nor is he tired.

But what the hell was he supposed to do? Throw all caution to the wind? Tell Jisung he wants to do _that_ again, unprompted, and hope for the best?

He’s not the type of person to throw caution to the wind. That’s _Jisung_.

 _God_ , he wants to bury himself in his sheets and never emerge just thinking about the interrogation he’ll get from Jisung next time he sees him.

He’ll face that obstacle tomorrow, though. Right now, all he can think about is jerking off until he _can’t_ think anymore and then sleeping off whatever delusions have been building a nest in his brain ever since he stopped being a virgin.

After throwing his phone across the room, figuring that if he can’t see it, he’ll forget entirely about the near-disaster of an interaction he and Jisung just had—Out of sight, out of mind, or something—he rushes to throw his dishes in the sink and procrastinate his coursework for another night. He has bigger issues to tackle right now, and he fears that if he doesn’t tackle them immediately, he’ll end up dialing Jisung’s number again in a haze and _actually_ propositioning sex this time.

He can’t let himself take that risk again, regardless of how successful the outcome was the first time. For now, for as long as it takes for him to _actually_ be with someone—someone who _isn’t_ his best friend—he’ll have to settle for his own hand.

As he lies back down and palms himself, somewhat irritated that he’s still hard even after running around doing errands for five minutes, he hates himself even more for trying to drag Jisung into his delusions just now. Sure, his hand doesn’t compare to what he felt buried in Jisung’s ass, and it likely doesn’t compare to what he would've felt like with Jisung buried in _his_ ass, but it’ll do the job.

So he tips his head back with a soft moan, moments away from shedding his sweatpants and boxers, when he’s stopped dead in his tracks.

 _Slam_.

“Minho?”

No.

 _No_.

Minho’s jaw drops at the sound of Jisung’s voice in his apartment, and he barely has enough time to tear his hand off of his crotch and shoot into a sitting position before the younger is breaking into his room.

“Minho?” he calls again, then lets out a dramatically loud sigh of relief when his eyes land on the older boy. It hits Minho just then that receiving a call from your best friend who sounds like he’s on his deathbed and then having said best friend hang up on you before you can figure out what’s wrong is probably borderline terrifying.

He feels terrible for a split second, realizing he probably scared Jisung out of his mind, but the fact that Jisung is in his room while he’s in _this_ state after having _that_ dream has him scared out of his _own_ mind.

“Um,” he says, stiffening when Jisung charges at him, kicking off his shoes and climbing onto the bed. He’s suddenly in Minho’s personal space, eyes wide and concerned and _thankfully_ not trained on the bulge in his sweatpants.

“God, you scared me,” the younger says, rattling Minho by the shoulders. “What the hell happened? Talk to me.”

Minho’s mouth opens and closes.

He can’t tell him, right? He hung up the phone for a reason.

But he’s so _hard_ and Jisung is _right here_ and he craves something that his hand can’t give him, something that he gave to Jisung only a week earlier.

"Minho, what's wrong?"

He feels bad for how worried the younger sounds, worried only for him to ask for _sex_.

"I just—uh."

He can't do this. He can't possibly.

Jisung’s frown is so sincere it hurts. “Did I do something?”

"No, no, I just—" Minho rushes, efforts suddenly focused on ridding Jisung of the concern painted across his features and _not_ on silencing his embarrassing thoughts. This proves to be his downfall. "Can we fuck?”

He cringes the second the words slip off his tongue.

That was not the most eloquent way of asking.

“...What?”

He cringes again, eyes shutting tightly.

"No, I—" He stops himself before he can somehow say something even _less_ eloquent, taking a deep breath to compose himself as much as he can. He then opens his eyes unwillingly, heart sinking when he sees Jisung's bewildered expression. “It’s—I just wanna, uh.”

“You wanna… do it again?”

Jisung doesn’t look disturbed or anything of the sort, so Minho forces himself to go on. It’s not like he can take back the words at this point, anyway.

“I mean, we don’t have to, really… Fuck, I don’t know why I’m asking this.” He groans, incredibly angry with himself. Why wasn't one time enough for him?

Having sex with his best friend was the most blissful experience of his entire life, and yet, no matter how hard he tries, he can’t help but wonder what it would’ve felt with if the coin flipped the other way, if it were him under Jisung instead of the way around.

He wants to know what it’s like. He has to.

"Hey, hey. It’s okay,” Jisung soothes, squeezing Minho’s shoulders. “Just ask.”

Minho inhales slowly through his nose and averts his eyes. “Do you—Do you think you could, um, fuck me?”

Jisung’s lips part; Minho sees it out of the corner of his eye.

“You want me to fuck you?”

He nods shyly, relieved that, at the very least, Jisung doesn’t seem totally put off by the question.

“Like… put my dick up your ass?”

" _Yes_ , Jisung,” Minho hisses, forcing out a pained laugh. “Sorry, I just, um. I really just… Fuck, I’m sorry. I just wanted to try, you know? Try…”

“You wanna try being on the bottom?” Jisung supplies, smiling softly. “Are you sure?”

Minho quickly nods. “Yes. _Yes_.”

Jisung’s eyes slowly shift down toward his sweatpants, and before Minho can do anything to cover himself up, a shit-eating grin spreads across the younger’s face.

"So _that's_ why you’re acting like a rabid animal," he murmurs.

"Wha—I’m not—" Minho tries to defend himself, but he yelps instead when Jisung reaches out and brushes his fingers over his pathetically obvious bulge that he didn't have the time nor the wits to adjust before the younger came in.

"Huh," Jisung hums thoughtfully. "Why?"

Minho freezes. _Why?_

God, if he knew the answer to that, he would feel a hell of a lot better.

"Um," he murmurs, convinced that his ears are beet red and hoping that Jisung can't see them. "Well, I don't know." He wracks his brain for some explanation—something, _anything_ legitimate enough to convince him and Jisung both. "I just—I just wanna try it." He groans. That's not good enough. "I mean, it would be good practice wouldn't it? Doing it both ways?" Yes, yes. That's better. That makes sense.

That's it—That must be it.

What if he ends up in bed with someone someday, someone who plans to be on top? What will he do? Make a fool of himself?

He and Jisung may have gotten rid of the _virgins_ title, but they're technically still virgins the other way around, aren't they? Is that how it works?

Regardless, they need to do it one more time, just once more, to be safe.

Jisung squints at him. "Practice?"

"Yes, practice," Minho says, desperately clinging onto the explanation he's stumbled upon, words flying out of his mouth now. "I mean, what if you ever end up on top with someone? It would be nice to have some experience in that, don't you think? Do you want to end up looking like an idiot virgin, Jisung? _Do you?_ "

"Holy shit, chill," Jisung says with a laugh, patting Minho's cheek. Minho recoils, beyond embarrassed. Jisung is the least _chill_ person he's ever known in his life, so hearing that come from him is a major red flag.

He's just about ready to roll over and suffocate himself in his pillow, pretend that the past few minutes never happened, when Jisung speaks again. "Do you wanna do it, like, _now?_ "

Minho nearly jumps out of his skin.

“Really? Do you really wanna?” he asks, heart racing excitedly, distracting him from how embarrassingly desperate he sounds.

"Yes, really," Jisung confirms, laughing at his energetic response. “You’re kind of right. Just because we aren't virgins doesn't mean we aren't sad and pathetic still." Minho snickers at that, hitting the younger’s shoulder. "What brought this on, though? At one in the morning?"

Minho stops giggling, then clears his throat awkwardly, once again finding himself at a speed bump. He figures telling his best friend that he just dreamt of him bending him over is out of the question, so he settles on a cryptic shrug instead and hopes it's enough.

* * *

Thankfully, it proves to be enough because minutes later, Minho finds himself spread out on his mattress, body shaking with two fingers in his ass.

"Holy shit," he breathes, voice high and shaky. "Holy shit."

"Mm, you already said that," Jisung teases, but he's looming over Minho with an almost _hungry_ look in his eyes, fingers moving slowly despite being told that he can speed them up.

Minho has quickly come to learn how much different it feels to be on this end of the experience. How _vulnerable_ , how _unknowing_ , how _out of control_.

He has also come to learn that he _loves_ it.

"I—I told you to hurry up," he hisses, aggressive, doing all he can to conceal how needy he feels.

"So impatient," Jisung groans, and Minho glares at him, but he _also_ loves how laidback this feels, normal, almost.

This is anything but normal, but for now, he'll pretend.

Of course, when Jisung finally _does_ speed up his fingers, he happens to brush against Minho's prostate in one go, and before he can withhold it, Minho is tossing his head back with an embarrassingly high-pitched moan.

“Gottem,” Jisung sings as though Minho's world wasn't just flipped on its side. He fists the bedsheets on instinct, gritting his teeth to hold back any potential future noises as Jisung continues to touch that spot and scramble his insides.

He doesn't do a very good job holding back. It only takes a few thrusts of Jisung's fingers for him to start a steady rhythm, and then Minho is whining louder, strained noises slipping from his throat with each breath he takes.

" _Jisung_ ," he chokes out. He's never felt so naked in his life—Of course, he _is_ naked, but he feels it on more than just a physical level right now. Laid out for Jisung like this, feeling his fingers inside him, is one of the most intense experiences of his life.

And it's only going to grow _more_ intense.

"Do you want another?" Jisung whispers, curling his fingers up and beaming down at Minho when he lets out another soft moan. "I can stick to two if you're not ready."

"Try me," Minho breathes. "This is nothing."

He says this _now_ , but within seconds he's gasping at the feeling of Jisung's third finger pressing into him alongside the first two, stretching him far better than his own fingers ever have. There isn't much of a difference in the size of their hands, but Jisung's fingers are slightly longer than Minho's are, and the overall sensation of having someone _else's_ touching him is mind-bending.

More cries tumble from his lips before he can stop them.

" _This is nothing_ ," Jisung mocks, and Minho feels his face heat up at the taunting. The younger slows his movements, then, voice softening. "Is it too much, though?"

"No, please, keep going," Minho rushes. His skin burns even hotter when he realizes how needy the words sound, and the cocky glint that passes over Jisung's irises doesn't help cool him in the slightest. He doesn't say anything, though, only offers a hum and spreads his fingers a bit.

Minho swallows hard, squeezing his eyes shut and attempting to control his breathing in the meantime. This feels too good— _way_ too good, considering it's not even the main event. Not for the first time, he regrets spending the first five years of his adulthood a virgin.

Why did he do that, when he could've been doing _this?_

 _It's because it's different when it's Jisung_ , his brain supplies, but the thought doesn't make him feel too great, so he ignores it in the meantime. He and Jisung are inseparable, sure, but there's going to be a day where there's someone else in his life, someone else doing this to him, a non-Jisung. Probably.

Whatever. He won't think about it right now, especially not when Jisung's fingers are abruptly curling up to tease his bundle of nerves again, and he's letting out the most embarrassing cry his throat could ever produce.

He squeezes his eyes shut tighter, not even wanting to _imagine_ the look on Jisung's face after hearing that. He doesn't want to see the look on his _own_ face, either.

“Holy shit,” Jisung whispers, fingers pausing. “You really like this.”

He doesn’t sound teasing, only amazed. It's reassuring enough for Minho to blink his eyes open, and the look of pure awe in Jisung's eyes only intensifies the sensation he feels at his core. His expression would almost be _cute_ if his fingers weren't buried in Minho's ass.

"Don't stop," Minho breathes, legs kicking impatiently. It would be beyond embarrassing if he orgasmed before they could go any further, but his body feels so good right now, all he can think about is more, more, _more_.

"What do you say?"

Minho's eyes widen. Momentarily, he thinks Jisung actually plans on making him beg, but then he sees the younger's grin and relaxes, rolling his eyes.

"Shut up," he whispers, embarrassed that some part of him was ready to do it.

"No manners," Jisung mutters, but he starts to move his fingers faster. He doesn't tease anymore, prodding at Minho's prostate and staring down at him curiously as his body twists around on the mattress.

"Oh, god, _fuck_ ," Minho whines, tossing his head to the side and screwing his eyes shut again in an attempt to ground himself. "Jisung, _fuck!_ "

He can hardly register the fact that he's moaning like an overhyped camboy with his best friend's fingers up his ass, not when the sensations shooting through his body are practically intense enough to make him cry. "Fu-Fuck, _please_."

He also doesn't register the plea that falls from his lips. Jisung doesn't mention it, either.

"Feel good?" the younger asks, and Minho hates the teasing lilt that's returned to his voice, but he can't really blame Jisung for it when _he's_ acting like _this_ , writhing around and whining like this is his first orgasm.

It isn't, _really_ isn't, but it sure as hell feels like it is when Jisung's fingers start to rub relentlessly against the sensitive spot inside him and he arches off the bed unintentionally, cries out a loud, high-pitched moan unintentionally, and releases across his torso within an instant, most of _all_ unintentionally.

 _Fuck_.

This was not the plan. This was not the plan at all.

" _Oh_ ," is all he hears Jisung say. He keeps his eyes shut, squeezes them so tight he sees patterns dance across the insides of his eyelids. He's ready to roll off the bed and into a casket, body vibrating with the aftereffects of the current that just ran through him, when the younger speaks again. "You're so cute."

_Huh?_

His eyes fly open, heat gathering in his cheeks.

"I'm _what?"_ he huffs. The unexpected praise has him feeling partial warmth, partial offense.

Jisung offers him a sincere grin, slowly removing his fingers from Minho's ass and raising his eyebrows just barely when Minho instinctually whimpers, legs coming together as if to stop him from pulling them out all the way. He coughs in embarrassment, shyly parting them again.

"Cute," Jisung repeats. "I didn't realize I was going that hard."

He _wasn't_ going hard, honestly. Minho has gone way harder on himself in the past, either with his own hand or... _other_ _sources_. Whatever demon just took over his body and forced him to orgasm far sooner than he intended was of Jisung's creation.

Naturally, he has no plans to tell his friend that much.

"Sure you didn't," Minho breathes, but the sarcasm is barely there, every cell in his body too preoccupied trying not to melt from the fading pleasure to focus on anything else. "Fuck."

"I didn't _mean_ to," Jisung whines, rubbing both of Minho's thighs soothingly. "You're probably too sensitive to fuck now, huh? Sorry I foiled our losing-our-virginity-part-two plans."

Minho's eyes bulge, and he lifts his head to glare at Jisung.

He _is_ sensitive, and he may just die if Jisung so much as slides an inch of his cock into him, but he refuses to fall asleep one more night feeling like there's a piece of this puzzle missing.

He wants this more than anything.

"What, you think I can't get it up again?" he accuses, forcing himself onto his elbows, though he nearly falls flat on his back again. Jisung looks as though he's biting back a laugh.

"Oh?" The younger looks him over thoughtfully. "If you're up for it, I mean..."

"Get me tissues and water, and then this ass is yours," Minho says, high from his orgasm and Jisung's praise and far too blissed out to be embarrassed by his own words.

Jisung laughs heartily, squeezing his thigh. "I'm on it."

By the time Jisung comes back with the glass of water, Minho is hard again, fully coherent, and trembling.

Oh, god. _Oh, god_ , he's about to have his best friend's dick in his ass.

How the hell did they end up in this situation? Again?

"Are you sure about this?" Jisung murmurs, perched at the edge of the mattress while Minho practically gulps down the whole glass in one sip.

He abruptly nods, almost choking himself. "I wanna," he rasps.

That's an understatement.

While Jisung busies himself with the condom, Minho reaches over and grabs a pillow to slip under his hips, just like the younger had when he was on the bottom. Jisung eyes him carefully as he does, lower lip between his teeth like he's in deep contemplation.

"What?" Minho asks, instantly growing fearful that the younger doesn't want to fuck him anymore. Hell, he wouldn't want to either. He's been acting so ridiculously needy, it's making his own _self_ sick.

"Tell me no if you're not into it," Jisung speaks quickly, and Minho's lips part when he sees how red the younger boy's cheeks are, "but do you wanna maybe try turning over?"

Minho tenses at the proposition. He recalls Jisung suggesting the same thing the last time, recalls turning him down because he felt it was too impersonal for their first time having sex.

This isn't the first time, though. This isn't meaningful.

At least, he _thinks_ it isn't...?

All of the sentimental crap aside, he's more than intrigued by the idea of facing the pillows instead of Jisung. For one, it would probably make him more comfortable, less awkward, less nervous under his gaze.

And, despite how much he tells Jisung porn isn't real, it _does_ look like a promising position from what Minho has seen.

"Yes," he says without a thought, too curious to say no but also wanting to hide now that he busted a nut just being _prepped_ . And, god, he was so _noisy_ the entire time Jisung fingered him, so uncontrolled. Maybe, hopefully, this will counter that, because Jisung sure as hell wasn't this unhinged when _he_ was the one bottoming.

Jisung gives him a pleased smile. "You sure?"

Minho nods, then squints at his friend. "Why are you so insistent on this, though? This your go-to porn position?"

The younger looks away sheepishly, still grinning. "One of many."

Minho scoffs. "You're gross," he says, but he's probably blushing like a schoolgirl when he pushes himself up further and starts to turn around, then freezes when he realizes that his _entire_ _ass_ is on display for Jisung now.

"Good?" the younger asks, hands going to the sides of Minho's waist to help guide him. His fingers rub soothing shapes into his skin, calming him enough to turn over all the way, stomach settled on the mattress while his ass stays up.

This is so _weird_ , yet he wants it so _bad_.

"Good," Minho whispers back, biting back a hiss when his cock brushes against the sheets. His heart races in anticipation as he quickly realizes now that he's down on his stomach, he has little idea of what Jisung's movements look like from behind him.

Seconds later, there's a hand on his ass, and he's gasping loudly as the tip of Jisung's lubed cock brushes up against his hole.

"Hey, hey," the younger says gently, squeezing his ass in what Minho assumes is supposed to be a comforting manner. "Try not to tense up, okay? Just relax."

Minho wants to snap at him for sounding like some professional when his only sex experience is shitty porn and _Minho_ fucking him, but his brain is running with too many thoughts to connect to his mouth.

God, what if he comes unexpectedly again? What if he doesn't come again at all? What if it hurts? What if he actually doesn't like it at all?

All the questions, all one million or so of them, dissolve the second Jisung begins to push in.

"Oh, fuck. Holy fuck," Minho breathes, eyes ridiculously wide, fixated on the wall, and jaw slack. It's tight, not too different of a stretch from the one he would feel using a dildo, but he's learned that sex alone is on a completely separate planet from the real thing.

Jisung's only about halfway in, he guesses, and he feels _stuffed_.

"Fuck," Jisung swears, and Minho can somewhat relate to how he's feeling, remembering vividly how tight the younger was around him last week. "Shit."

"Shit," Minho echoes, eyes falling shut when Jisung continues to slide in until his hips are flush against his ass. "Shit, shit, _shit_."

"You okay?" Jisung checks, a slight panic to his tone. "Should I pull out?"

" _No!_ " Minho yelps. He's starting to like it already, wants to know how much _more_ he'll like it when he's finally adjusted enough for Jisung to move, to fuck him into the mattress like his subconscious desires. "Fuck, no. It... feels good."

"Okay," Jisung whispers, running his fingers up Minho's spine and triggering chills along his skin. "Good. Don't bust yet, though."

"Fuck off," Minho hisses, grinding back a little in what he thinks is a fine form of retaliation, but the movement only draws a soft gasp from Jisung's throat and a downright _embarrassing_ whine from his own.

 _Holy_ _shit_. Too engrossed in the fading sensation to dwell on the noise that just escaped him, he repeats the action and cries out again, luckily not as loud this time.

"Shit, Minho," Jisung breathes. "Can—Can I move?"

"All yours," Minho replies, fingers gripping the pillow in preparation.

He takes in a deep breath as he listens to Jisung shift around on his knees to pull out partway, and then the wind is instantly knocked out of him when the younger abruptly thrusts in _hard_.

"Holy _fuck_ ," he almost yelps, forehead dropping to the pillow. One thrust and his head is spinning, insides burning.

He's never felt anything like that in his _life_ . More, he wants _more_.

"Sorry!" Jisung squeaks, clearly surprised at his own force. He squeezes Minho's hips comfortingly. "Was I too hard? Did it hurt?"

" _No_ ," Minho hisses, pushing back against Jisung again. If he doesn't feel whatever he just felt again, he might go insane. On the other hand, he may go insane when he _does_ feel it again. "No, no, keep going."

"Let me know if you need me to slow down," Jisung murmurs, sounding unsure of himself, so Minho nods encouragingly, shifting up onto his knees a little so his ass is more accessible.

And then, again without warning, Jisung is pulling out and thrusting back in, quicker this time, and for a split second, Minho thinks he's going to come again.

This is _not_ what a dildo feels like.

"Holy shit," Jisung whispers, voicing Minho's very thoughts. "Holy shit. That's insane."

"I know," Minho replies with a breathy laugh. "Are _you_ gonna bust, now?"

Teasing Jisung is something that comes naturally to him, but he quickly realizes doing so is not in his best interest when Jisung has him on his stomach, dick buried in his ass.

"Are _you?_ " Jisung retorts, pulling out and slamming back in, and Minho lets out something close to _sob_ , fingers grabbing the pillow he's face-planted into and clutching it tightly.

He's already enjoying this _way_ too much.

"Are you okay?" Jisung rushes. "I didn't mean to go that hard. Should I—"

" _For the love of god, Jisung_ ," Minho cries, too desperate to feel as much of this feeling as he can to hang onto his pride, "please keep going, _please_ . I'm fine. Stop _stopping_."

He hears a surprised intake of breath, and the few seconds of silence following start convincing him that he was a little too forward, and then Jisung starts to withdraw all the way, and then he starts to panic—

And then Jisung is thrusting all the way back in, hard enough for Minho to see stars.

" _Oh my god_ ," he cries, loud and high, burying his face in the pillow again. Finally, Jisung stops second-guessing his movements; he doesn't pull out all the way again, but his thrusts are fast and steady enough to overwhelm Minho with stimulation.

"Minho, fuck," he moans, fingers gripping Minho's hips tight. "Shit, _fuck_ , this feels so good. Do you feel good?"

Minho wants to punch him. He's plenty sure that the way he's crying into the pillow like some _rabid animal_ , as Jisung had said earlier, is testimony to how "good" he feels, but he remembers how nerve-wracking it was to be on top and pulls his head up from the pillow to stroke his friend's ego a little.

"Better than good," he chokes out, whining when Jisung snaps his hips forward before he can go back to hiding his face. " _Fuck!_ "

"Shhh," Jisung says with a giggle, but he sounds too endeared for Minho to be angry. "Can I turn you back over?"

"Sure," Minho agrees without thinking, whimpering when Jisung slowly pulls out, then rolls over and flops to his back, tiredly fumbling for a pillow to prop his hips onto.

It just now hits him that there's now no way for him to muffle whatever humiliating sounds leave his throat, no option to hide his over-the-top reactions from Jisung. On top of that, he can't imagine what an absolute _wreck_ he must look like right now.

"I'm not gonna last very long," Jisung says with a shy laugh when he lowers himself to guide his cock between Minho's spread legs again. His face and neck are flushed, hair tousled, lips wet with spit, muscles flexing while he gets into position.

He's so goddamn attractive, Minho can't help but feel smug that _he_ was the one to take Jisung's virginity. Though, to be honest, he's _always_ smug in regards to the younger. Having someone like Han Jisung in your life does that to you.

"Oh," Minho breathes, eyes widening when Jisung begins to slide in again, more easily now that he's already thrusted into Minho a handful of times. He isn't sure if the position itself provides more or less stimulation, but with Jisung looming over him, eyes dark with arousal and eyebrows furrowed in concentration, biceps flexing on either side of Minho's head...

To be brief, the experience is a little _different_.

"Is this—Is this okay?" Jisung checks once he's situated all the way, holding himself up on his hands. Minho can only nod, still caught off-guard by the sight above him. He's almost forgotten the sensations he was feeling a minute or so ago until Jisung takes his nod as a signal to start thrusting again, and _holy shit_.

Minho couldn't have stopped the whine that escapes his lips if he tried. His hands grapple to hold onto something and settle on the sheets, fisting the material while Jisung starts to move steadily. It's not even a fast pace, nor is it too forceful yet, but for some reason being able to _see_ it all happen is making his head _whirl_.

" _Jisung_ ," he chokes out, then gasps when the younger thrusts a little harder. He looks ridiculously good with his lower lip between his teeth and eyes lidded, arms shaking slightly while he picks up speed. He doesn't say anything, clearly focused on his movements, but there are soft noises coming from his lips that do wonders for Minho's ego and also stoke the fire in his stomach.

"I'm—I'm gonna move," Jisung warns before he moves down to his elbows, hot breath hitting the skin of Minho's neck which he nuzzles into for a minute while he catches his breath. For a moment, Minho is endeared by how cute his best friend is, but then the angle of his hips changes, and Minho's entire world turns over once again.

" _Fuck!_ " he hisses, legs rushing to wrap around Jisung's torso in an attempt to ground himself. He's about ninety percent sure Jisung's cock is lined up with his prostate now, meaning if he even moves an inch, Minho will likely—" _Holy fuck!_ "

Jisung pulls back from his neck with wide eyes, lips parted as he takes in the sight of Minho below him. The older boy instantly squeezes his eyes shut and clamps down on his lower lip before he can make an absolute fool of himself, but his efforts prove to be useless when Jisung pulls out almost all the way as he did before and slams back in.

"Oh my _god_ ," Minho cries, head tossing to the side and back arching off the bed.

He can't even remember what Jisung's thrusts felt like before this, can't remember what _anything_ felt before this.

"Oh?" Jisung whispers, sounding somewhere between teasing and fond, then pulls out and thrusts back in once, twice, three times.

Minho lets out an embarrassingly loud sob, curling his legs around Jisung so tightly it hurts his muscles. His fingers let go of the sheets once he determines that they aren't enough to stabilize him when he's feeling this intensely, so he blindly reaches up and threads them through Jisung's hair instead.

"Keep going, please keep— _Fuck!_ " Minho cries, entire body convulsing when Jisung complies instantly. He feels the muscles in Jisung's stomach flex against him as he moves, feels the younger's breath hitting his face, feels every part of him everywhere.

It's beyond words.

"You feel so good," Jisung groans, forehead suddenly pressing to Minho's like it had when Minho was on top the week before. Minho's eyes fly open, and all he can do is whimper when he sees Jisung looking at him with the darkest, most intense gaze he's ever seen while he continues to messily thrust.

Minho prays that the younger will politely forget about the embarrassing noises leaving his lips right now, because he's lost all control of them by this point, too focused on trying not to black out from pleasure to silence himself.

" _Fuck_ ," he grits out, eyes fluttering shut again and face scrunching up while Jisung hits his prostate one thrust after the other. He tries to push down the flames eating away at his gut, but it's a lost cause when Jisung suddenly pushes himself up onto his knees, grabs Minho's legs, and folds them toward his chest.

"Okay?" he checks when Minho blinks up at him again, eyes bulging out of their sockets at the new position. All he can do is nod, too deep in pleasure to question what the hell Jisung's porn-influenced brain is planning.

Jisung then pushes his thighs almost flush against his chest before he thrusts in again, and it takes everything, _everything_ in Minho to not come on the spot.

"Holy _fuck_ , Jisung," he chokes out, whining. Jisung doesn't give him a chance to recover from the intense wave of pleasure that just washed over him, instantly pulling out and thrusting in again, hips making obscene smacking noises as they snap against Minho's ass repeatedly. "Oh my god. Oh my god."

"I'm not—I'm not gonna last again," Jisung reminds him breathily, skin shining with sweat and face contorted in pleasure as he thrusts in fast, hard, fingers likely making marks where they dig into Minho's thighs.

Minho is rapidly forgetting everything he knew about the world.

"Jisung—" he cries, head tossing back to bare his throat, moans leaving his mouth before he even realizes they're coming. " _Jisung_ , fuck. _Fuck!_ "

Jisung only moans in response, hips beginning to stutter after every thrust. Minho _yanks_ at the sheets—and they still don't do shit to ground him, not when he feels like his entire body is being ascended into another dimension.

"Feels so fucking _good_ ," Jisung whines, thrusts becoming hard and sloppy, uncontrolled, as he seemingly comes close to orgasm, but somehow, this only makes the sensations even better.

"Please, fuck, _please_ , Jisung," Minho cries. He'll be embarrassed about the amount of times he's moaned his best friend's name later, after he has the best orgasm of his life. "Please, I'm gonna—"

"Me too," Jisung says, slowing for a moment to ease Minho's thighs off his chest so they wrap around the younger's waist instead. He then reaches down and tugs at Minho's wrists until he lets go of the sheets and stares up in shock, confused until Jisung interlocks their fingers and pins his hands down on either side of his head. _Oh_.

His heart starts to swell with fondness at the gesture, but then his stomach swells with heat when Jisung bends over him and starts thrusting like his life depends on it, rough movements that shift Minho against the mattress from their force. Minho's hands are going numb from how tightly their fingers are locked, and he already knows for a fact that he won't be able to move a single step after this is over, but none of that matters when Jisung is nailing his prostate, like this is his hundredth time having sex, and panting heavily, pupils dilated and lips parted.

"I'm gonna— _Shit_ ," the younger croaks. A few quick thrusts later, he lets out a strangled cry, one that echoes in Minho's ears long after it leaves Jisung's lips, and grinds into Minho hard as his orgasm takes over him. Minho gasps at the feeling of the condom filling up inside him, eyes squeezing shut when the younger rides out his high and soft whines escaping his lips.

He's expecting Jisung to pull out and jerk him off or something, but it doesn't happen. Instead, he pulls back and snaps his hips hard, drawing an ear-splitting moan from Minho's throat and causing his entire body to seize up in both shock and pleasure. Then he does it again, and again, small, sensitive whimpers leaving his lips with each push, and before Minho knows it, he's _crying_ , his vision blurring with tears and cum shooting across his stomach, far more forcefully than it did when he was being fingered.

" _Jisung_ ," he sobs, completely unable to fathom what he's feeling right now. " _Fuck,_ oh my god _, fuck_."

 _Fuck_.

For a few seconds, everything is blocked out, everything but the white-hot flames licking at his insides but slowly retreating, and then there are hands on Minho's face wiping away his tears and a warm voice in his ears.

"Lee Minhooo," Jisung sings, face so close to Minho's that he can feel the younger's breath on his ear. "You alive?"

Minho blinks his eyes open, and he isn't sure whether he should be horrified or elated in the aftermath of what he just experienced. He practically _blacked out_ coming, and he wants to crawl and hide at the realization that Jisung witnessed that— _caused_ that—but the younger is smiling down at him so sweetly he changes his mind.

"Did I kill you?"

There's a playful smile on Jisung's lips, but Minho knows he's concerned, and insecure, maybe, beneath it, so he clears his throat and forces out a sarcastic "Yeah."

Jisung giggles, dropping his head down and rubbing their noses together, and Minho hates that he's growing more tolerant to the disturbingly sappy gesture each time it happens. He can't be bothered to grimace at this point; all he wants to do, really, is curl up against Jisung and sleep for the next ten years.

"Here," the younger says, pressing the mostly empty glass to Minho's lips after shakily standing from the bed to throw out the condom. He uses his other arm to help the older boy up into a sitting position and carefully cleans the cum off his torso while Minho takes small sips of his water and tries to tug himself back to reality. "Do you wanna shower?"

He probably should, but he thinks he'll collapse if he takes even a single step, so he shakes his head and hands the glass of water back to Jisung. As soon as it's placed down, Minho reaches out his arms to pull the younger in for a hug, unable to stop himself, too warm and fuzzy inside after coming that hard _twice_ to even think straight.

"You're just a big baby, aren't you?" Jisung mumbles into his neck with a laugh, one hand squeezing Minho's waist while the other pets back his sweaty hair. "I'm not even going to bother asking which time you liked better."

Minho chokes at that, and if his cheeks weren't already at maximum redness, they are now. " _Shut up_ ," he groans, voice raspy.

Jisung giggles. "Guess we won't be needing that coin anymore, huh?"

"Shut up," Minho repeats, then stiffens when his brain picks up on the implication.

Was that an insinuation that... they would do this _again?_

Before Minho can begin to spiral, Jisung presses a kiss to the top of his head and pulls away. "Do you mind if I go shower?"

Minho nods his approval and sluggishly moves onto his side to curl up, still too out of it to care that he's ass naked. He feels Jisung toss a blanket over him and gives the younger an appreciative hum, eyes fluttering shut while he listens to him leave the room and head toward the bathroom.

Part of him wants to lie around and contemplate what Jisung just said, but his tired brain writes it off as a joke. _He_ may be the one acting like a complete mess right now, but he's sure Jisung is nearly as out of his mind as he is.

After all, they're done it both ways now. Both sides of the coin. Minho has had sex with his best friend two more times than he ever expected to, all in the span of a week.

Sated and feeling like he won’t be able to stand on his own two feet for the next month, he decides that he doesn't regret it at all, the first time or the second time. Not after he felt things he never imagined he would feel, things he didn't think were _possible_ to feel. He finds it hard to believe that he'll ever feel better than this, but he's okay with that. He's still grateful.

He _really_ can't ask for anything more this time.

* * *

He really _doesn't_ ask for more this time.

It's not _his_ fault Jisung is grinding on his leg.

When Minho first wakes up, he jolts out of fear that it's the middle of the day and he's slept through classes like he has one too many times in the past. But then he sees the sunrise peeking in through his window, then remembers that it's the weekend, then feels Jisung wrapped around him. Instantly, he relaxes.

Then he jolts _again_.

"Wha—?" he breathes, suddenly catching movement coming from his best friend, who still appears to be deep in sleep. He jolts a _third_ time.

It's not at all abnormal for him and Jisung to be cuddled up like this, arms hugging waists and legs interlocked and all that. They're touchy friends with almost no sense of personal space, so nothing here is out of the ordinary.

Except for the fact that there's a _dick_ rubbing against Minho's thigh.

He sits up on his elbows, alarmed, and blinks several times, as if clearing his vision will change the fact that he can feel Jisung, hard in his sweatpants and moving against his thigh.

Jisung is fast asleep and grinding on his leg.

It takes him about ten seconds to figure that much out, another ten for it to set in, and another ten for him to start panicking.

What the hell should he do?

"Ji—" he starts, but he quickly stops himself. Would waking Jisung make it worse? He isn't too keen on having an awkward encounter with his best friend first thing in the morning.

But what options does that leave him? Let him _continue?_

As if he's not already freaking out enough, Jisung then decides to softly _moan_. Well, technically, it's not much of a decision, since he's asleep and all, but it rattles Minho nonetheless.

"Shit," he whispers under his breath. Maybe if he can manage to detach himself from Jisung and run off to the living room or something, they'll both escape this unscathed. It's definitely not the first time either of them have ended up with morning wood, seeing the infinite amount of times they've fallen asleep and woken up together, but this is the first time in history that _this_ has happened.

Unlike after the first, Minho's life has returned to a decent state of normalcy since the second time he and Jisung had sex. No more sleepless nights, confused mornings, nor questions plaguing his mind.

It's been at least a good few weeks, and he's totally convinced himself that he'll never find himself looking at his best friend in _that_ way again.

Yet here Jisung is, dumping all of that down the drain. For _what_ , exactly? A wet dream?

Minho shakes his head. "Unbelievable," he mutters, suddenly irritated that Jisung thinks he can go around having explicit dreams in _Minho's_ bed as he pleases. With the sole intention of waking him up, berating him, and telling him to either fix his dick or solve his issues in the shower, he inhales and shakes his best friend roughly by the shoulders.

Jisung startles, rutting against his thigh one last time and letting out a strangled sort of gasp as his eyes fly open. He spends several seconds just blinking, sort of as Minho did just a minute before. Minho wonders if he's going through the same thing—trying to figure out if this situation is real or not.

"Fuck," he finally breathes, eyes flickering between his crotch and Minho's unamused gaze. Minho is ready to tease him a little, maybe tell him off for waking him up like this, and then proceed to pretend it never happened, but his plans are abruptly brought to a halt. "I'm sorry."

For some reason, the words hit Minho like a ton of bricks.

A little too late, he realizes if he woke up from a wet dream, horny and wrapped around Jisung with the younger glaring at him like this, he would likely die on the spot.

"No, it's—" he starts, frowning when Jisung shyly untangles their legs. Some part of him wants to stop the younger from detaching himself, so he does, reaching out with a hand to grab his thigh and keep it settled where it is, hooked over one of Minho’s.

Jisung blinks.

He blinks back.

Words leave his mouth before they even enter his brain. "You don't have to stop."

Jisung blinks again.

He blinks back.

 _Why_ did he say that?

"Oh?" Jisung whispers, and then his lips curl up and his face grows smug and Minho _immediately_ regrets not berating him the moment he opened his eyes. "Meaning?"

"I—" Minho tries to remember what exactly he was thinking when he told Jisung he could keep going but ultimately comes up with nothing because he _wasn't_ thinking. "Well, I just... I don't know. Don't you wanna, like, fix that?"

Why did he say _that?_

He tries not to visibly cringe at himself, swallowing hard as seconds pass with Jisung only staring at him, silent, bulge still brushing against Minho's leg.

Finally, after an uncomfortable amount of time, he shrugs. "Might as well."

Minho tenses in surprise, eyes bulging. For a second, all he feels is relief, relief that Jisung didn't find his word vomit as weird as he found it himself. But then he tenses even _more_ , the relief being replaced by utter alarm when he realizes what this means.

He's going to be _doing things._ With _Jisung._ _Again_.

In spite of the alarm, his boxers start to tighten, even if just slightly.

"Yeah," he whispers back, still trying to shake off his surprise. "Might as well."

Might as well? Might as well _what?_

At least their first two sexual encounters had some sort of purpose, some sort of goal. But now, doing something just because they _might as well_... What does that even mean?

Jisung seems to be in the same state of dumbfounded as he is, so they spend a solid number of seconds continuing to stare back and forth before Jisung speaks again.

"What do you want to do?"

Minho leans back a little in shock.

"Huh?" he mumbles, flustered now that the situation is suddenly lying on _his_ shoulders, when _Jisung_ is the one causing them problems here. "What do _you_ want to do?"

Jisung offers him an amused smile, and Minho notes how, _once again_ , there's little to no embarrassment in the younger's expression.

"Well, I mean," he says, sitting up and pulling back so his dick is no longer resting against Minho's thigh. "We've already done _you-know-what_."

"Mhm..." Minho says, eyebrows furrowing in confusion, unsure of what connection Jisung's trying to make between the times they had sex and whatever is happening right now.

"So is there anything else you want to try?"

Minho's eyes widen.

"Something... I want to try?"

There are about a million things he wants to try, but he's never thought about them in regards to _Jisung._ He feels himself flush just _thinking_ about thinking about them in regards to Jisung.

"Sure," the younger says with a shrug, and Minho is really beginning to hate how casual he's able to appear during all of this. Jisung is always one to let loose around his friends, around Minho, especially. Affectionate, touchy, never hesitating to throw himself on top of him or kiss his cheek. But in a _sexual_ context? How on _earth_ is he so collected?

"I don't understand," Minho says. He’s lying; he thinks he understands perfectly fine. However, his brain is beginning to melt as the various things he wants to _try_ run through his mind, and he _really_ doesn't want to let Jisung have any more power over him.

No, he wants _Jisung_ to be the one blushing and caught off-guard, shedding tears of pleasure like Minho was just a few weeks ago. He wants to make him feel so good he can't even _try_ to throw another smug look in Minho's direction.

They've always had a teasing, back-and-forth sort of dynamic to them, so he figures it isn't too great of a surprise for it to make an appearance even in this context. If anything, it makes perfect sense, explains why the blood in Minho’s veins is suddenly rushing with excitement.

"What I'm asking," Jisung clarifies, "is if you were to fool around with someone, what would you wanna do?"

Minho's mouth opens and closes again. It's not a terribly complicated question, but so suddenly?

He latches onto the first thought he has. "I wanna suck your dick."

Immediately, he recoils, realizing it may have been less weird if he didn't use the _your_ , seeing that they were supposed to be _hypothesizing_ here, but the look of absolute shock that passes over Jisung's face, complemented by a red tint to his cheeks, makes him feel better already.

_Ha!_

After a few blinks of surprise, Jisung cocks his head and gives him a curious look. "You've sucked dick before."

He grimaces. _That_ is an overstatement.

"Barely," he mutters, kicking at Jisung's leg and averting his eyes. The instance Jisung is referring to was a one-time, much regretted five minutes at a party where a drunk Minho attempted to suck off an even drunker stranger in the middle of a frat house kitchen. It ended with said stranger falling asleep on the floor before Minho could really even figure out how to use his mouth properly and, thankfully, a decent amount of memory loss due to how intoxicated they both were.

Said drunken stranger also turned out to be his _lab partner_ who he _bought condoms from_ a few weeks ago.

"You really wanna try, though?" Jisung whispers. _Finally_ , he sounds at least somewhat shy.

Minho gives him an eager nod. Never would he have imagined he’d someday be learning to suck dick using his _best friend_ , but after some of the things they've been up to recently, it's nothing, really.

It would be nice to have someone to practice on, anyway, right?

"You can't judge me if I come in the first five seconds," Jisung warns with a sheepish smile as Minho slowly pushes himself up and starts to crawl down the mattress so he can get between the younger's legs. "I'm pretty sure I was close before _someone_ woke me up."

"Sorry, was I supposed to let you bust a nut on my _leg?_ " Minho scoffs, incredibly grateful that they're able to continue their bickering, otherwise his mind would be going amiss over the fact that his fingers are currently resting on the waistband of Jisung's sweatpants.

He looks up for permission to go further, then takes in a deep breath and slides his hand under the material of the younger's sweatpants and boxers.

Jisung hisses the moment his fingers make contact. He probably _was_ close, considering how his dick is prettily flushed and leaking everywhere when Minho draws it out. He only stares at first, panic starting to settle over his shoulders now that it hits him that he has _no_ idea how to suck a dick. Really, the party experience doesn't count for shit.

But then Jisung offers him a lazy grin and says, "Too big?" and he suddenly has no hesitation to bend down to wrap his lips around it.

The soft groan that leaves Jisung's mouth is worth it already. Minho wants to freeze and freak out, fret over how inexperienced, how insecure he is, but Jisung's breathing is already picking up, reminding him that _he's_ just as inexperienced as Minho is.

So he pulls off for a split second to take a deep breath and then dives down again, gripping Jisung's cock firmly while guiding the first few inches into his mouth, tongue dragging along the length of it.

"Oh, fuck," Jisung whispers. Minho sees him grip the bed sheets, which boosts his confidence enough for him to keep going, sucking Jisung as far back as he can before he's sure he'll choke, then pulling off again. The younger doesn't manage a _word_ , only lets out quiet whines and watches Minho with wide eyes as he circles his tongue around the head of his dick experimentally and grows accustomed to the unfamiliar taste.

He then switches gears and dips down his head to lick up the length of it, ego swelling and dick hardening in his boxers at the whimper that leaves Jisung's lips.

" _Shit_ , Minho," he chokes out when Minho decides to go back to actually _sucking_ it, only focusing on the tip of it while he does so, which apparently feels good (he wouldn't know, of course), because Jisung's hands yank at the sheets below them harder, just like his own did while he was being fucked.

Minho hums in response, then pauses while Jisung is distracted with his head tossed back to slowly shift his body and subtly rut against the mattress as he suckles.

The _subtle_ part of that soon flies out the window, because with every passing second, more noises escape Jisung's throat, spurring Minho on in ways he doesn't even _understand_. He makes his own noises, as well, whimpers muffled by Jisung's cock that cause the younger boy to gasp and squirm below him.

It doesn't take long for Minho’s jaw to start aching, but he refuses to give up until Jisung falls apart completely, and from the sounds of it, he's over halfway there.

"You're so sexy," Jisung hisses. Minho halts, eyes wide and body warm, and then begins to suck harder. "Minho, _fuck!_ "

Nearly driven mad by the way his name sounds tumbling from Jisung's lips, Minho grinds down onto the mattress _hard_ , hard enough that he nearly chokes himself on Jisung's cock. Though apparently, the near-choking experience feels _fantastic_ on Jisung's end, because then his hips are raising up, nearly choking Minho a second time.

"Fuck, shit, I—" he moans, clearly struggling to stay still. "I'm gonna—"

Minho pulls off almost all of the way and focuses his tongue on the very tip, sucking slowly and watching Jisung carefully in anticipation, his own heart racing as though it's _his_ orgasm approaching.

" _Minho_ ." Jisung whines loud, hips stuttering when Minho starts to sink down again, and then there's suddenly cum filling Minho's mouth, a _lot_ of it.

He coughs in surprise, abruptly pulling his lips off of Jisung's cock to swallow while watching the younger unravel. It doesn't taste spectacular, but for some reason, he kind of likes it.

Even more, he likes the sight of Jisung, _really_ likes it. Right now, he looks just about as wrecked as he did after Minho fucked him: his chest is heaving, an arm thrown over his eyes, mouth dropped open. "Holy shit."

"Was that okay?" Minho checks nervously. Jisung raises his head and shoots him a halfhearted glare.

"I just _came down your throat_ ," he says, sitting up to pull his boxers and pants back up, erasing any evidence of the interaction they just had.

"All right, just checking," Minho says with a giggle, shifting back and whining softly when his bulge drags along the mattress. He stiffens when the sound leaves his lips, staring at Jisung like a deer caught in headlights.

" _Oh_ —Come here," the younger says, and then suddenly he's hauling Minho up into his lap and giggling when he yells out in surprise. Minho is about to chastise him for startling him, but then Jisung's hand grabs his erection through his sweatpants, and it takes everything in him to not cry out.

"Oh," he whispers, feeling his face flood with heat at the indication that Jisung wants to get _him_ off, now. He stuffs his face into the younger's neck to muffle a whine when the groping speeds up, his hips starting to rock forward subconsciously.

Then Jisung takes his hand away.

Minho pulls back with a scowl, partially annoyed at Jisung's teasing, partially anxious that he's decided he doesn't want to touch him anymore, but he's soon distracted by the younger grinning deviously and shifting his body, and—

" _Ah!_ " Minho cries out when Jisung's thigh presses up against his bulge. On instinct, he grinds down onto it, hands gripping his shirt. "Wha—What are you doing?"

Jisung shrugs. "Does it feel good?"

Minho nods rapidly, so Jisung smiles and yanks him forward again so he's straddling his thigh instead of his lap.

"Fuck," Minho hisses, rutting against him again and clamping down on his lip when Jisung gives him a stupidly pleased grin. He feels too good to be embarrassed, though, shamelessly beginning to move faster. "Oh, _fuck_."

He falls forward to press his face against Jisung's collarbone, arms linking around the younger's neck to ground himself as he keeps going, small whimpers still escaping him but hopefully unheard by Jisung now that they're mostly muffled.

"There you go," Jisung murmurs in his ear, hands sliding to cup Minho's ass, causing the older boy to jolt in surprise and moan loudly when his cock rubs against Jisung's thigh _hard_. "Cute."

Minho wants to snap at him for calling him such a sappy word right now, but it's so hard to do anything at all when he's so unbelievably _close_ , when Jisung's thigh is sturdy below him, when his hands are squeezing Minho's ass, when his breath is hot on his ear.

(And also when Minho secretly likes it, anyway.)

"You gonna come already?" Jisung whispers, the cockiness laced into his voice somehow driving Minho _crazier_. He doesn't answer, only ruts against Jisung's thigh faster, grinding his clothed dick down onto him hard, whining louder and louder into the younger's shirt. "Come on, baby."

As soon as the words reach Minho's ears, there's a rush of heat passing through his body, so strong that within seconds he's thrusting his hips against Jisung's thigh for one last time with a pathetically loud cry leaving his throat and cum coating the inside of his boxers.

" _Oh_ , _fuck_ ," he chokes out, arms curled around Jisung's neck so tight it's probably close to suffocating.

"Shhh." Jisung's hands squeeze his waist as he slows his hips and lets out a string of incoherent whimpers into the material of Jisung's shirt, sensitivity hitting him full-blast. "Good?"

Minho nods, but when Jisung tries to move him off his lap he cries out in protest and hangs on tighter, overtaken by clinginess like he was the last time they had sex.

"Hang on, just a second," Jisung promises, setting Minho down so he can get up. When he returns, he pushes a clean pair of boxers and athletic shorts into the older boy's hands, alongside their go-to tissue box.

Minho is cuddled up to him the moment he's done changing, suddenly drowned in a wave of gratefulness for his best friend, especially when he holds him tight and hums into his ear as he settles down again, eyes falling shut.

"Do you feel good?" he whispers, voice incredibly soft.

Minho would scoff at the ridiculous question if he had the energy, but he feels so sedated right now, he can only nod and let out a tiny hum.

"Good. That's good."

For some reason, the response has warmth blooming in his chest. He smiles into Jisung's shirt, holding him as tight as he possibly can.

Han Jisung is _everything_. Minho has _everything_.

What more could he ask for?

* * *

Apparently a lot more. So much that he’s been spaced out for the past ten minutes.

He blames Jisung, completely and one hundred percent.

_Is there anything else you wanna try?_

Maybe if Jisung didn’t say that, Minho wouldn’t be spending an unhealthy amount of time thinking about the other things he wants to _try_ , this time with his _best fucking friend_ in mind.

It’s only been a few days since he sucked Jisung’s dick, but the days have been long and painful, and Minho is beginning to feel like he’s back at where he was after the first time they had sex.

He can’t handle it. He really can’t.

Today, his mind decides to torture him with the image of, well, something similar to what they've done in the past. Minho on the bottom—but also not on the bottom. He wants...

He wants to ride Jisung.

Thankfully for him, there haven't been any more explicit dreams, but the current predicament may be just as bad, considering the fact that Jisung is next to him, curled up watching videos on his phone, while _he's_ curled up thinking about sitting on his friend's dick.

Jisung giggles at something, and Minho instantly sends him a glare. How dare he sit around and enjoy his life while Minho's stuck in a loop of sex-crazed agony that's _his_ doing?

His eyes catch Minho's glare before the older boy can go back to glumly staring at the ceiling and trying not to pop a boner, and then he's pulling out one of his earbuds and squinting in confusion.

"What's your problem?"

 _What's_ my _problem?_ Minho wants to scream. _This is your fault!_

He swallows, taking a moment to contemplate his response. There are two options here. He can shrug his best friend off with a salty _Nothing_ , or he can be honest and possibly get his... unwanted thoughts off his chest and out of his mind.

Maybe before all of this started, he would've taken the first route. By this point, though, they've already crossed off some of the most awkward situations two best friends could possibly be in and survived. There isn't much to fear anymore.

Minho is pretty certain he'll never lose Jisung. And after all, he's always been awful at being dishonest with him. He exhales slowly, mind made up.

"Can I ride you?"

Jisung instantly drops his phone onto the bed. Minho spots two deer moving across the screen. He interrupted Jisung watching a fucking _deer_ video to propose fucking _sex_.

" _Oh?_ Uh... Right now?"

Minho's face heats up in shame, but he also feels a rush of relief at the indication of agreement in Jisung's response, though not enough to make up for the fact that he just asked him something completely inappropriate, completely _unprompted_ , while he was _watching a deer video_.

Just as he's starting to feel like some sort of corruptive gremlin, the younger grins at him— _beams_ at him, like Minho's asked him to go out for ice cream.

He takes it as his chance, encouraged by the apparent enthusiasm. "Sure…?"

Jisung smiles _wider_.

"Seriously?" he asks. "You liked my dick that much?"

Minho's jaw drops. "Shut up!" he cries. "I just wanna know what it's like, okay? I didn't have a chance last time, and you asked the other day what stuff I wanted to try, and I just… This is _your_ fault, okay? All your fault, Han Jisung!"

"It's okay, it's okay," Jisung comforts him with a giggle. "I take full responsibility. I mean, it's probably worth a try, if you really want to."

* * *

He _really_ wants to.

That's how he ends up moaning Jisung's name like it's the only word he knows, fingernails digging into the younger's shoulders and thighs shaking.

"You're terrible at this," Jisung tells him, cackling as he thrusts his hips up. Minho falls forward, burying his face in Jisung's neck with another moan.

"Sh-Shut up," he mutters, but the younger isn't exactly wrong. He only made it about five minutes before his legs, in all their muscled glory, failed him.

It's not his fault Jisung's dick is big and brushing against his prostate every time he even _shifts_.

Despite his complaints, the younger is moaning his name as well, soft grunts escaping his throat with every movement of his hips.

"I'm—" Minho breathes, trying to help himself back up onto his knees, but Jisung thrusts up every time he almost makes it, causing him to fall back down with a cry. " _Stop_. You're doing this on _purpose_ , asshole."

"Maybe," Jisung admits with a giggle, though he relents and grips Minho's waist firmly to help him back up onto his knees so he can attempt to take the reins again.

This time, he's more successful, motivated by Jisung's teasing and his own deep-rooted desires to master everything he attempts.

"Oh, shit," Jisung whispers. Minho finally figures himself out and begins to lift up and drop down hard, repeating the movements in quick spurts. " _Shit_."

"Lo-Loser," Minho tries to taunt, but his voice is high and breathy and nearly drowned out by the pleasure bubbling in his stomach. " _Fuck_ , Jisung. Fuck, I hope the next person I have sex with has a dick like yours."

His ears burn as the words leave his lips, but Jisung laughs warmly and hugs his waist tight, subtly grinding his own hips upward to meet Minho's movements. "I hope the next person _I_ have sex with has an _ass_ like yours."

"No one has an ass like mine."

"True."

They fall silent after that aside from the soft noises leaving their mouths, arms curled around one another while they move together. Minho soon comes to realize that this position is different in more ways than one, the biggest being the fact that they're close, _insanely_ close, sharing the same air practically, swallowing each other's moans.

It somehow feels more intimate than the first two times, and that, for whatever reason, sends a ray of heat straight through Minho’s body. He whines louder and louder each time he drops down, almost bouncing on Jisung's cock now. (So much for being _terrible_.)

He lets his forehead press to the younger's as it did previously and whimpers, overwhelmed by the sensations and the proximity and Jisung's nose brushing against his and Jisung's eyes on his, hooded and glazed over with pleasure, and Jisung's lips inching toward his and—

They're kissing before he realizes it.

He expects himself to feel a shock, expects himself to recoil and stare at his friend with disbelieving eyes and a slack jaw. Instead, he tilts his head without a second thought, pressing his mouth more firmly to Jisung's and welcoming the warm tongue that pushes past his lips.

It feels so good, so _natural_ , like a final puzzle piece to what they're doing, and Minho can't help but wonder why they didn't try this the first few times. He remembers thinking it would be weird, but surely it's not weird at all, not when it comes to him as easily as breathing and sends delightful sparks down his spine.

He feels Jisung moan softly into his mouth as the younger sucks at his lower lip and reminds himself to keep moving, so he shakily lifts himself and begins to grind down again, causing them both to whine into each other's mouths.

" _Minho_ ," Jisung whispers, right against his tongue before he nips at Minho's lip, and Minho suddenly feels miles closer to orgasm.

"Fu-Fuck," he whimpers, breaking their kiss but keeping their lips touching, breathing against Jisung's mouth as he speeds up as much as he can, gasping when the younger brushes against his prostate. " _Jisung_ —Fuck."

Jisung's hands grip onto his waist and begin to guide him when his thighs grow tired again, and his lips start to trail from Minho's mouth down his cheek, his chin, his jaw, his throat, letting out soft noises all the while, and before Minho knows it, he's coming with a high-pitched moan, body jerking hard and release painting both of their torsos.

It's less than a minute before Jisung is reaching _his_ peak, grinding up into Minho sporadically while the older boy comes down from his high. Minho connects their mouths again, muffling his own whimpers from the bliss and the sensitivity, when Jisung's orgasm strikes, his hips stuttering up once more and making them both cry out.

" _Minho_ , Minho, fuck," he chokes, loosening his painfully tight grip on Minho's waist after filling the condom and slowly, carefully easing the older boy off of his lap so he can pull out.

Minho swallows nervously while he lies back, spent, and waits for Jisung to return to him after tossing the condom. His lips still tingle with the aftertaste of Jisung's, and he pitifully wonders if he'll ever taste them again.

That question is answered almost immediately when the younger finishes lazily wiping them off and flops down next to him. All it takes is the two of them turning on their sides to face each other and cuddle off their post-orgasm exhaustion, and they’re leaning in simultaneously.

They stay like that for a long time, lips moving languidly together, long enough that Minho's face begins to go numb and by the time they pull away, they both have droopy eyes and sluggish smiles on their faces.

Minho decides he quite likes whatever they're doing, however unconventional it may be. He can't wrap his head around the whole experience, really, but it all feels so _good_ , so _safe_ , and they're learning so _much_ as they go.

It's a best case scenario, in his opinion. He shyly wonders if Jisung thinks the same.

* * *

As it turns out, he _does_ think the same.

When Minho wakes up an hour or two later, groggy, Jisung is wide awake and gazing at him with thoughtful eyes. He sits up in alarm, blinking repeatedly until his vision and his mind are both somewhat clear.

"Can I help you?" he rasps, cheeks flooding with heat as he remembers sitting on Jisung's dick just before he fell asleep— _Jisung's_ _dick_ , which is still out in the open, seeing that neither of them even bothered to put on clothes before their nap.

Jisung doesn't seem to think much of it. He throws an arm over Minho's waist and squeezes, offering his best friend a smile, an almost sheepish one, before he speaks.

"I'm just wondering if you wanna, like..." he says, and Minho notes with surprise (and a little satisfaction) that the younger's cheeks are pink. "Is it okay if we keep doing this? Is that weird?"

Minho's eyes widen in surprise. He knows that this thought, this _exact_ thought, has been lying dormant in the back of his brain as of late—probably since their first time, though he maybe didn't know it yet—but hearing it from Jisung makes his heart pick up speed.

"Honestly, I think we crossed the _weird_ border a while ago," he jokes, trying to conceal how _elated_ he is by the thought of more of this.

More of whatever this is, because _whatever it is_ makes him feel things he's never felt in his life, makes him feel closer to his best friend than he ever could've imagined, makes him feel _alive_.

It can't possibly hurt to keep going.

"Absolutely correct," Jisung replies, squeezing his waist again. He looks unnaturally shy, and Minho finds it adorable. "I mean... It's good practice, don't you think? Didn't you say that before?"

Minho nods eagerly. _Yeah_. Yeah, that's right.

"Let's do it," he says, not even giving himself a chance to think things over. He knows there has to be more than what they've experienced during these few instances, and he _craves_ whatever that may be. He wants to explore it, discover it. He wants to learn everything, feel everything.

And there's no one, absolutely no one, better to explore with than Han Jisung. He's sure of it.

"Yeah?" Jisung grins, then slides his hand down to grab Minho's ass, which makes the older boy let out a squeak and slap his hand. "You really don’t think it's weird?"

Minho purses his lips. Well...

"Of course I think it’s weird," he tells him, because it _is_ , "but when the fuck have we ever been normal before?"

Jisung laughs at that, then leans up and presses what feels like a hesitant kiss to Minho's lips.

"You wanna practice a little more?" he whispers. "Because there are things _I_ wanna try, too, you know."

Minho snickers at his attempt at smooth-talking. "Go on," he encourages. "I guess we can _practice a little more_."

* * *

A little more quickly turns into a lot more.

Jisung's bucket list is arguably longer than Minho's and _inarguably_ more insane.

"Jisung if you don't fucking shut up," Minho hisses, smacking Jisung's thigh. His hair is a wreck, lips swollen, face wet with tears shed while choking on Jisung's dick.

"I'm not doing it on purpose!" Jisung claims, holding his hands up in defense as he looks down at Minho, who has been on his knees for the past ten minutes.

On his knees in Jisung's shared dorm with his _two roommates_ who are both _very much home_ at the moment.

Minho gave Jisung an indifferent shrug and a _Whatever floats your boat_ when the younger asked if he wanted to try to fool around quietly in his room, but he's ready to smack the shit out of the younger now—and not in a sexy way, not in the phenomenal way Jisung did to Minho's ass the week before, which made him come in an embarrassing span of three minutes.

"Keep your mouth shut," he warns now, unhappily wary after Jisung moaned a little too loud for his comfort.

"I will, I will," Jisung promises, guiding his cock back into Minho's ready mouth and groaning quietly the moment his lips are closed around his erection again. Minho shoots him a threatening glare but doesn't hesitate to continue sucking, something he has come to like doing more than he would've imagined—though Jisung seems to like doing it even _more_ , to Minho's surprise and glee—and has gotten better at, too, over the past few weeks (or so he hopes).

Thankfully, Jisung manages to keep quiet. At first.

Minho quickly loses himself, tuning out Jisung's panting and focusing on pleasing, on moving his tongue in ways that he remembers the younger liked before. He even starts making his own noises, small whimpers muffled around Jisung's cock, but those aren't loud enough to raise concern.

Especially not in comparison to the moan _Jisung_ lets out just seconds later. Minho pulls off immediately, head snapping up to shoot daggers at the younger.

"No, _no_ ," Jisung cries, still loud, trying to push Minho's head back down. " _No_ , god, I'm _close!_ "

" _Shut the fuck up, then!_ " Minho whisper-shouts, entire body switching between scorching hot and ice cold at the idea of anyone hearing them. "Are you crazy?"

"Oh, come on," Jisung says with a quiet laugh, but he's still desperately trying to get his dick back into Minho's mouth. "Neither of us are gonna die."

" _You_ will when I throw you out the goddamn window," Minho threatens, but he's back on Jisung's cock before the younger can laugh again.

Minutes later, he's coming down Minho's throat with a horribly concealed whine that has Minho slapping his thigh hard.

" _Ow!_ You're into that shit, not me!"

" _Be quiet!_ I swear to fuck, Jisung, if either of them heard us..." Minho grunts as he stands, wobbling. Jisung catches him with ease. "I'll fucking... I'll..." He's suddenly distracted, distracted by Jisung's hand rubbing over his bulge.

"You'll what?"

"H-Hey," Minho whispers, biting back a whine. He gathers the strength to slap Jisung's hand away. "Fuck off, I'm serious. We're never doing that again, you noisy asshole."

"Okay, okay!" Jisung tries to soothe him. "No more fucking in front of Chan and Changbin." Minho groans at the choice of words. "...Now it's your turn to be quiet."

* * *

"Oh, it's your turn, by the way."

" _My_ turn?"

"Yeah, you know..." Jisung blinks as if he can't comprehend what Minho isn't understanding. "We're taking turns, aren't we? Trying shit we're into?"

"I mean, I guess," Minho mumbles back, squinting, "But when you say it like that... God, you're a loser."

"Well, shit. _Sorry_ I don't happen to have a coin on me."

Minho flushes. Personally, he thinks their coin is his greatest possession. They've used it numerous times, now, even for completely non-sexual purposes like deciding on a movie or who's going to do the homework, but Jisung will still take any opportunity to tease him about it.

"Screw you," Minho grumbles. "You're just jealous you don't have one."

"You caught me," Jisung deadpans. "Seriously, though. Your pick."

* * *

"I swear to fuck if I somehow get stuck here, I'm leaking your nudes," Minho grumbles about a day later as Jisung finishes tying his wrists to the headboard with a scarf—a fucking _scarf_ , of all things—in a lousy I-don't-know-shit-about-kinky-sex knot.

Despite his words, he's flushed hot from head to toe before Jisung even enters him, and he comes harder than he ever has in his life by the time they're done. Jisung enjoys the experience almost as much, and Minho happily brags about how his bucket list ideas are _stellar_ , far superior to Jisung's, in his humble opinion.

* * *

...Maybe not all of them, though.

They're lying tangled up on the couch when he closes the browsing tab on his phone, cheeks warming as he peers up at Jisung.

The younger pauses whatever he's watching. "Can I help you?"

"Are you a dom?"

Jisung begins to choke. "Am I a _what?_ "

"You know, like..." Minho continues, embarrassed. To be honest, he has no fucking clue what he's talking about, which is why he figured it was worth asking. "Like, uh... BDSM and stuff? Come on, I thought you were a porn expert."

"No, I know. I _am_ ," Jisung says with a laugh. "I just didn't think you were into that."

"Well, I don't know if I am. Are you?"

Jisung shrugs. "I don't know. Maybe."

"Do you think..." Minho starts, hesitant. "Should we... I mean, should we try? Just to see what it's like?"

"Sure," Jisung agrees easily, like they're deciding on a take-out restaurant or something, patting Minho's cheek and pressing a kiss to his chest through his shirt. "Which one do you wanna try to be?"

"...Coin?"

Jisung sighs. "Go ahead."

Half an hour later, Minho is panting, straddling Jisung who's flat on the bed and fucking up into him relentlessly.

" _Fuck_ , this feels too good, I can't think," Minho breathes. "We're totally doing this wrong, though. You're supposed to throw me around and shit, aren't you?"

"Oh, is that what you want?" Jisung swats at his ass—not too hard but enough to tease.

"I don't _know_ ," Minho cries. "I don't know what I want. You're supposed to be in charge here."

"I guess you're right," Jisung says, and in moments both of them are flipped, Minho on his back crying out. "So you're just gonna lie here like a little sub and make me do all the work, are you?"

Minho rolls his eyes at his friend's attempt at dirty talk. "Sure, Jisung."

He moans loud, though, when the younger starts to fuck him, plowing into him at a pace that makes his head spin and his toes curl. The sight above him is the cherry on top; Jisung's eyes are screwed shut, mouth open, eyebrows furrowed. Okay, _this_ definitely feels good. Maybe this was a good idea—

“You like that, Minho? Huh? Like being my little sub?”

Minho bursts into giggles. Jisung abruptly stops moving.

“Why the fuck are you laughing?” he whines, but he begins to laugh along regardless. “Come on, I'm trying my best!”

“I know,” Minho reassures. “Sorry, I was just… caught off-guard. Man, you watch a lot of bad porn, huh?”

" _Bad?_ " Jisung almost yells. “I watch porn of the highest quality, you motherfucker.”

" _Oh_ , call me that again.”

“Fuck you.”

“Please _do_ ,” Minho whines in his best dramatic porn star voice, but then Jisung’s pulling out and thrusting in hard, causing him to moan _loud_ , this time not forced at all.

“Want me to wreck you, ya little _slut?_ ” Jisung asks, nipping his ear. Minho is caught between laughing again and sobbing from how good the quick thrusts feel. “You gonna beg me to let you come, _whore?_ "

Minho snorts. “Oh my god, Jisung,” he groans. Jisung’s face falls into his neck to muffle a giggle, his hips slowing once again.

"Fuck, I don't know what I'm doing. I’m just copying porn," he admits. "We're a disappointment to the BDSM community. We would get spit on."

“Yeah, I don’t—I don’t think we’re cut out for this,” Minho concludes.

“Me neither. Let’s just fuck.”

Jisung changes his pace, evolving from the fast pounding to slower thrusts. Surprisingly, it feels even _better_. Minho pulls him in close, arms wound around his neck, fingers buried in the hair at the back of his head, legs trapping his waist. Jisung presses soft kisses across his jaw, one of his hands holding onto Minho's thigh while the other is beside his face to keep himself sturdy.

"Fuck—Jisung, _fuck_ ," Minho whines, overwhelmed by how intimate it feels. He isn't sure what to do with himself, so he captures Jisung's lips in a kiss and lets out soft whines as the pleasure forms mountains inside him.

It feels so _good_.

"Shit, I—I don't think I'm gonna last," Jisung groans, kissing down Minho's neck and causing his hips to jolt upward and head fall back as an invitation.

"Close," he breathes, whining high in his throat when Jisung starts to suck softly above his collarbone. His thighs squeeze tightly on either side of the younger's waist, back arching with each steady thrust.

It feels _unreal_.

" _Jisung_ ," he chokes out, tears bubbling in his eyes just from the ecstasy.

They've already had sex a handful of times, so why does it suddenly feel like _this?_ What changed?

"Mm, you can come, baby. I'm gonna, too," Jisung mumbles into his skin, voice raspy.

Minho comes on the spot, either from the soft pet name or the hard thrust against his prostate—or both. " _Fuck!_ " he cries, thighs tensing as he releases between them, seeing sparks inside his tightly-closed eyelids, _feeling_ sparks run through his whole body. "Oh my god. _Oh my god_."

"God, Minho," Jisung moans, picking up the pace for just a few seconds and then reaching his peak as well with Minho's hands carding through his hair and legs pulling their bodies as close as possible.

"Oh my god," Minho breathes again. Jisung starts to slow his thrusts, mouthing at Minho's neck as he does, both of them letting out whimpers while they're brought back down from the clouds.

Minho cracks open his eyes. The room _spins_.

"That..." Jisung says once he begins to pull out, and his voice is so warm in Minho's ears right now; _everything_ is so warm right now. "...was way better than our pitiful attempt at roleplay."

"Agreed," Minho says with a giggle, and then he can't _stop_ giggling. He pulls Jisung in for a kiss the second he's completely pulled out, bringing their bodies close again despite the cum on his stomach and the filled condom. "God, that—" He still has tears in his eyes, and he pauses their kisses to blink them away and steady his breathing. He rubs their noses together like Jisung always does, like he always hates, absolutely enamored by the sparkles glinting in the younger's eyes. How did he get so _lucky?_ "I love you so much."

Jisung's expression falters, and Minho's stomach drops.

He meant it, meant it with his whole heart, but he quickly realizes this is _probably_ not the most suitable context for those words.

When seconds pass and Jisung stays quiet, mouth ajar, he begins to panic. "I meant—I meant that, I mean, you're my best friend. You know that. I just—"

"No, I know!" Jisung finally speaks, a soft smile on his lips that settles Minho's nerves a little. "I know. I love you, too." He rubs their noses together again, and this time Minho recoils with a gagging noise like he didn't initiate the same gesture moments ago.

He giggles again, somewhat at ease, but the nerves are still lingering in his stomach, so he stops laughing and looks into Jisung's eyes, chewing on his lower lip for a moment.

Despite their reassuring nature, the younger's words sounded... off. Did he accidentally make things weird? He really hopes not, because he loves what they're doing. Loves being able to discover himself alongside his best friend, his _Jisung_. He doesn't want to mess that up. He doesn't want it to end.

He isn't sure what that means, or if it's normal, but he's too afraid to think about it for too long, never mind _ask_.

"I swear I didn't mean it like that," he whispers, desperate, face burning both from the intercourse and the potential awkwardness he just provoked.

"I know," Jisung says again, kissing the tip of his nose and detaching himself from the older boy so he can leave the bed to throw out the condom and grab some tissues.

He doesn't say anything else after that, just goes back to watching videos on his phone and teasing Minho while he suffers through his coursework.

Everything feels fine now, Minho supposes, but there's still a slight buzz in the room that makes it a little hard for him to breathe. He isn't sure if he's imagining things, isn't sure if Jisung feels it, too. He also isn't sure if Jisung hears an echo in his brain, an echo of the words exchanged post-orgasm, like he does.

He doesn't ask. Instead, he forces himself to breathe, blocks the echo out of his brain.

He doesn't wanna think about it anymore.

* * *

He thinks about it for days.

Minho loves Jisung. Of course he does. But he didn't mean it like that, didn't mean for it to sound as _strange_. He didn't mean it.

So _why_ does he feel so _uneasy_ about it?

Every moment he's spent with Jisung since that incident, he's felt the same irritation, the same _buzz_ in the air. If Jisung senses it at all, he does a great job hiding it, because he goes along hugging and touching and kissing Minho like it's the easiest thing in the world, while _Minho_ feels himself begin to shut down in the younger's presence, drown in thoughts he can't comprehend.

Things have never been weird between them, _ever._ The words _I love you_ have never left Minho feeling like he's crossed a line. The overly affectionate touches from his best friend, the nose rubs, the _kisses_ , now, have never left him with a funny feeling infecting his insides.

The only explanation he can come up with is that the sex must be giving him the plague or something.

But that can't be it. Things were going fine until the other day. Until they ditched their shitty attempt at kinky sex and Jisung went soft on him. Until _Minho_ went soft on _Jisung_. That was when things took a turn.

That must be it.

Minho flops onto his couch with a sigh of relief. That's it. There's no need to stop what they're doing. They just need to avoid what happened last time, need to cut out the sentiments. That's it.

That's it.

* * *

That's it—at first.

Minho is sure he's reached the highest level of euphoria where he lies with Jisung straddling him, bouncing on his cock in brief, fluid motions.

"Holy _fuck_ ," he swears, loud cries leaving his lips each and every time Jisung swivels his hips.

"Holy fuck is right," Jisung groans, gazing down at him with bright eyes, brimming with starlight. "God, you—you look beautiful."

It's such an out of place statement compared to the way he's grinding his hips, fast and dirty and _everything_ but soft, just as Minho asked him to beforehand. It makes Minho stiffen, makes the air start to buzz and his lungs tense up.

He pretends he doesn't feel it.

"Me?" he croaks, unable to tear his eyes away from how unbelievably good _Jisung_ looks. He likes to tease sometimes, likes to claim that he's out of the younger's league, but he knows it's all a joke. Right now, it's a _huge_ joke. He doesn't think he's ever seen anything more breathtaking. " _You_ do."

He catches Jisung's cheeks flush a little darker and grins, then moans loud when the younger reaches forward and starts messing with his nipples.

"Noisy even on top," Jisung notes, and Minho attempts to huff, but he's caught up in another needy whine, only supporting Jisung's claim further. He welcomes the taunting with open arms, though, more than relieved that the buzz has seemed to subside now that they're back to their banter.

...And then it comes back full force.

"I'm—" Jisung groans, leaning forward and gripping Minho's biceps as he continues to rock down hard. Minho almost feels jealous of how good he is at this, how he didn't grow tired within five minutes like _he_ had, but it's hard to feel anything but pure ecstasy at the moment.

"Cl-Close?" he asks with a choked whimper. "Me too."

Jisung manages to smirk at that and detaches a hand from Minho's bicep to tug at one of his nipples again, somehow always able to work the older boy up even when on the brink of release himself.

"No, fuck— _Jisung_ ," Minho cries, hips bucking up at the extra stimulation. "Not fair."

"What's _not fair_ is you grinding your dick up into my ass," Jisung hisses, trying to hold Minho down so his hips are no longer raising off the mattress to thrust up into him. " _Fuck_."

Minho can’t help but smile, overjoyed to watch Jisung fall apart before he can. It depends on the day, on the... _type of activity_ , but more often than not, Minho's too deep into his orgasm to fully witness and appreciate Jisung's.

"Come on, Jisungie," he sings in a cute voice, holding the younger's hips and grinding up again. " _Come on_."

Minho is full-on beaming by the time Jisung reaches his high, whining loud like Minho normally does, head tossed back and eyes tightly screwed shut as cum coats his torso and leaks down his cock.

" _Oh my god_ ," he groans, blindly grappling for Minho's hands. " _Fuck_ , Minho. I love you more than anything."

Minho feels a shock blast through him, all the way to the depths of his core.

" _Oh_ ," is all he responds with, and then he's seeing black or white or _something_. What he sees doesn't matter; it's what he _feels_ that dominates his senses.

Flames licking at his insides, chills running up his spine, electricity buzzing across his skin.

He comes so hard he isn't entirely sure it even classifies as an orgasm.

"Holy shit," Jisung croaks. His voice pulls Minho back to his senses, but it doesn't do a _thing_ to buffer what he just felt. He's tingling, panting, staring at Jisung as he tries to figure out if there's an angel or a demon on his lap right now.

There's no way a human being is capable of evoking a sensation that powerful.

"Ho-Holy shit," he echoes, but his own voice is choked, faraway.

What the actual fuck was that?

Jisung slowly pushes himself onto his knees and clambers off of Minho's lap, flopping next to him and offering a lazy grin as though he doesn't feel the same buzz dancing along his skin. Once again, he leaves Minho feeling like his soul has ascended, or possibly _descended_ , while _he_ returns to complete normalcy.

Minho's blood begins to boil, though his heart sinks, as well.

He and Jisung are always on the same page, always tuned in on the same station. Does he seriously, genuinely not feel this, too?

Is Minho alone in whatever this is?

"Do you—" he chokes out impulsively, biting the inside of his cheek to keep himself from tearing up because _holy shit_ , he is so tired, so frustrated with himself for feeling like this, with Jisung for _making_ him feel like this. It’s completely ruining the whole experience, and he doesn’t like that at all.

He never wants this to end. (Though it’ll have to at some point, of course.)

"Do I what?" Jisung replies, pinching Minho's cheek and dropping a kiss on his forehead. His eyes are shining so bright, Minho's throat closes up. He can't find it in him to dull the light in his best friend's eyes, to drag him into whatever hell he's trapped in right now.

He'll suffer on Jisung's behalf any day.

"Do you feel okay?" he whispers, partially genuine, changing his original words but wanting to check up on his friend, regardless.

"Do I look _not_ okay?" Jisung giggles. "I mean, my ass is going to kick my ass tomorrow—Wait, that doesn't sound right. Anyway, I'm more than okay. Are you? Looked like you were about to cry with me on your dick, honestly."

"I was _not_ ," Minho hisses, once again grateful for the comfortable banter, but _he's_ not comfortable, not when Jisung's words bounce off the walls of his brain, back and forth, back and forth. He takes in a deep breath, ready to bring it up again, see how his friend reacts. "Oh, also, I love you too."

Jisung only laughs, only pinches his cheek again. Minho waits for the _I didn't mean it like that, by the way_ , or something along the lines of what Minho said the one time.

It doesn't come.

* * *

What _does_ come, however, is the most horrifying wake-up call of Minho's entire life. It begins with an _actual_ call and ends with him crying in Jisung's arms.

Whenever Minho doesn't know what to do, he calls Seungmin, so that’s what he does.

It turns out to be a regrettable decision.

"Hello?"

His former roommate answers in a monotone voice, which equally eases and burdens Minho. On one hand, he knows he can joke back and forth with the younger as they normally tend to. On the other, he doesn't know if there's much to joke about right now.

"Hello, Kim Seungmin," he replies smoothly, propped up against his pillows as he flips a coin in his hand— _the_ coin. Somehow, it has become a habit, a sort of calming technique for him.

"Oh god, what happened?"

He freezes. "What do you mean?"

He hears a sigh. "Do you really think I don't know when something's wrong? Come on. Two years living in a room together, remember? Am I ringing any bells?"

Minho rolls his eyes, though the fact that Seungmin can detect his emotions so easily makes his throat tighten a little.

"Well, um..." he mumbles. God, he needs to start scripting his phone calls. He typically says whatever comes to mind without a care, but things have taken such a serious turn as of late, and he's constantly lost for words. He _hates_ it. "It's just..."

Seungmin hums at the other end. "It's fine, Minho, just spit it out. It's me. Who am I gonna tell?" He pauses. "I'm not gonna tell Changbin, you know; he can't keep his mouth shut for his life. I wouldn't dare."

Minho laughs softly at that. He trusts Seungmin, really does, despite their near-constant bickering. If there's one person he can be fully honest with and expect full honesty from in return, it's his former college roommate.

"So," he starts again, swallowing, "Jisung and I started sleeping together."

There're a few seconds of silence, understandably.

"Were you not already?"

Minho chokes, _really_ chokes. _That_ wasn't expected.

" _Hell_ , no!" he cries. "Are you serious right now?"

"A little bit," Seungmin mumbles back. "Well, whatever. No proof, it was just a hunch. So you are _now_ , huh? And you're catching feelings?"

Minho chokes again. "I'm _what?_ "

"Is that not why you called?"

His heart begins to race.

"Am I that transparent?" he mutters, then recoils at his own words. " _Wait_ , no. _No_ , I'm not. What the hell? That’s not what I’m saying. Well, I mean, I don’t really know what I’m—"

"I'm going to sit here for a minute and let you think on that."

Minho tenses up. Screw Seungmin. Why did he call Seungmin?

Before he can _sit for a minute_ and _think on that_ , he's distracted by a loud noise.

"The fuck?" he whispers, briefly wondering if one of his neighbors is drunk and stumbling around again, but then there's another noise, right outside his door.

"Yoo-hoo!"

Minho's stomach turns over, and then Jisung, the very Jisung that's troubling his mind, is _in his room_.

" _You thinking hard?_ " Seungmin asks.

"No," Minho hisses. " _Jisung_ is here."

" _Oh?_ "

Jisung cocks his head curiously, noticing the phone by Minho's ear. "Oh, am I interrupting?" He wiggles his eyebrows.

"Yeah, I'm having phone sex with Seungmin."

Jisung grimaces. "He does enough of that with Changbin."

" _Hey, I heard that!_ "

"I didn't need to know that."

"Yes you did," Jisung says with a giggle. "You tell him we're fucking?"

" _Don’t bother lying_."

Minho figures it's not worth lying about. "Sure."

"Knew it." Jisung laughs again. "Okay, well, I'll go away and let you two gossip. I hope you're not telling him my dick game is no good."

"I wouldn't," Minho says. "That's a lie."

" _This is disgusting, guys_."

"Damn right it is. I'll see you—"

Minho grabs his wrist before he can head out, eyebrows drawing together. "Wait, why did you break in here? Everything good?"

"Oh." Jisung's face reddens. "Ha, well. It's stupid, but I got you something." He digs around in the pocket of his sweatpants and pulls out... a necklace?

"Look!" He laughs, seeming somewhat shy. Minho's eyes widen as the younger pushes the accessory into his hands.

It is a necklace, a black cord with... a coin?

There's a goddamn _coin_ hanging off of it.

Minho's hands start to tremble. He turns it over and over and over.

"It's a cat," Jisung says as though Minho can't see.

It's a gold coin with a cat engraved into it—the head of the cat on one side, and the back of the cat, in other words, the tail, on the other side.

"Heads or tails, get it?"

Minho realizes he hasn't spoken a word and clears his throat.

"I love it," he murmurs, willing himself not to cry as he looks up at Jisung. "You got this for me?"

"I had to pay some weirdo online to personalize it—I could only find a dog one. Who the hell cares about dogs? But yeah, you like it?" Jisung pokes his chest, and all Minho can do is stare up at him, awed and speechless. "You and your gay coin."

Jisung doesn't seem to notice that his best friend is in absolute malfunction before his eyes, or at least, he _pretends_ he doesn't notice.

"Okay, well, enjoy your phone sex, honey," Jisung says, patting his head, then raises his voice to say, "Seungmin, baby, I miss you so much!"

" _He saw me yesterday_..."

"Jisung," Minho breathes, in such shock that he can hardly move a muscle. His voice must not be loud enough to reach Jisung's ears, because the younger presses a brief kiss to his lips and turns, heading out the door and taking Minho's entire soul with him.

It all comes crashing down, all at once.

This was a horrible, _horrible_ mistake.

He wants to take everything back, all of it. Screw how good the sex is, how comfortable with his body he is now, how much experience he has. He would rather be a virgin for life than know what he knows now. He wants to go back.

He shifts his eyes back to the coin necklace, and his stomach disintegrates on the spot.

" _...Did I just hear you guys kiss?_ "

Minho lets out a shaky breath when he hears the apartment door close, though he hardly _does_ hear it over the buzzing, the unbearable buzzing. It's nearly deafening, and he doesn't know how to block it out, anymore.

He doesn't know if he can.

" _You good? What just happened over there?_ "

He doesn't speak for a long time, and when he does, he's practically inaudible.

"I think I love him."

* * *

He hopes he doesn’t, not like _that_.

No, it's beyond _hope_ —He simply _can't_.

If Seungmin's words had any truth to them, if Minho is actually, seriously, genuinely catching feelings for _Jisung_ —

He feels sick at the very thought. No, it's impossible. It’s probably just the cat, right? It’s just the cat.

He already has plenty of _feelings_ for Jisung as it is, probably as many as someone can have for their best friend. He feels secure with him, complete with him. He feels like _himself_ with him—and honestly, he probably wouldn't be himself at _all_ without him. He feels like, for the first time in his life, he has someone he loves who loves him just as much in return. He feels like everything he _does_ feel is also felt by Jisung. He feels like they're always intertwined, always on the same footing, on the same wavelength.

They're soulmates, really. There isn't one without the other, nor is there even a hint of a future where they won't be _them_ , won't be _Minho and Jisung_.

Hell, they're practically in love, just minus the _in love_ part.

That doesn't make them in _love_ , though.

It's just not like that.

But it's getting harder and harder for Minho to believe _it's not like that_ when Jisung is lying by his side and he feels like he's burning in hell. Either he has serious feelings to sort out, or he viciously loathes his best friend's company.

He could never _loathe_ Jisung, so that doesn't leave him with much room for denial.

They're at Jisung's dorm for once; Chan and Changbin are out at some music event that Jisung was supposed to attend but skipped because he claimed Minho sounded unwell. _Yeah_. He stayed back solely to lie around comforting his best friend all day.

Minho wants to dig himself a grave.

"Minhooo," Jisung whines, poking his back. Minho is currently rolled onto his side, facing away, buried in one of Jisung's pillows. He pretends to be asleep. "Babyyy. Baby, baby, baby."

He stiffens instantly, giving away his plan.

"You're awake!" Jisung says with a laugh. "Liar. Come talk to me, you little hermit."

Minho groans quietly, then reluctantly rolls over to face Jisung, giving the younger his best blank stare to cover up what a wreck he is.

Jisung doesn't seem totally convinced.

"Minho, my sweet boy, what's going on in your pretty head?"

Minho winces. Jisung is _really_ turning up the affections today.

"Don't call me that," he grumbles. He means it—though not for the reasons Jisung thinks.

"Well, I'm gonna if you don't talk to me," Jisung whines childishly. "Minho, my precious—"

Minho leans in and kisses him in a desperate attempt to shut him up, and within seconds, he's drowning in regret.

He immediately pulls back and tries to catch his breath, chest heaving despite the kiss hardly being more than a peck. Jisung searches his eyes for a moment, something unreadable making its way into his expression, and then he's suddenly pulling Minho back in again.

And Minho just can't resist. He can't stop his lips from moving, can't stop his hands from bunching up in Jisung's shirt, no matter how badly his insides begin to sting.

The younger boy hums thoughtfully against his lips after not too long, then pulls back a centimeter or two. "Do you wanna—I mean, would you feel better if we...?" He reaches over to squeeze Minho's thigh, an obvious unasked question behind the gesture.

Minho pulls away more, taken aback. Sure, they've had a considerable amount of sex, but there's always some sort of goal to it—something they want to try, something they need to practice. Aside from the one time Jisung woke up with a boner and they said _Fuck it_ and fooled around—though they didn't actually have sex that day—there hasn't actually been a time where they had sex just to _have sex_.

Or to comfort Minho, in this case, if that's what Jisung is getting at.

It's literally a _sex offer_ , but for some reason, his heart is in his throat as if it's a marriage proposal.

He studies Jisung's face for a moment, looking for any sign that his best friend is a figment of his imagination. Then, desperate to try anything to loosen the tightness in his chest, he sits up and climbs onto the younger's lap, gripping the collar of his shirt and tugging him into a bruising kiss.

Luckily, they stocked up on condoms at Jisung's dorm after running out of the ones at Minho's for the first time. (And Minho _really_ doesn't know how to feel about the fact that they've already gone through a _ten_ - _pack_ of condoms that he only anticipated they would be using _one_ of.)

Jisung laughs softly against his lips. "Is that a yes?"

Minho nods without a doubt in his mind.

Maybe it'll help, be a reality check of sorts. Maybe it'll convince him that he's wrong, prove to him that this is just a sex high that's gotten to his head, that he could never feel _that_ way about the person who's supposed to be his best friend.

* * *

He isn't convinced, nor is he proven wrong.

Apparently his wishes to switch up their sex routine to rough, emotionless fucking have escaped Jisung's mind completely, because the younger is doing the absolute opposite.

Slow and careful. Gentle touches and gentler kisses.

It feels amazing, but Minho is losing his mind.

"Ji-Jisung," he whines, tossing his head back when Jisung pulls the older boy's thighs up to his waist in order to hit his prostate more easily, sliding in and out like a damn _professional_ now that they've done this so many times. " _Fuck_."

"Feel better?" Jisung whispers, but before Minho can answer, he connects their mouths in a deep kiss that does nothing to halt the turmoil that's rooted inside him and continues to grow, grow so large his body can hardly hold it in anymore.

He only whimpers, then chokes out a gasp when Jisung angles his hips perfectly.

"Shhh," Jisung breathes against his mouth, and Minho knows that he's likely only hushing him because there are other students on this floor, but his brain, his _stupid_ , stupid brain, registers it as comfort.

Jisung makes him feel so safe.

His hands cup Minho's face, and his lips softly trail along his jawline, and he whispers something that sounds like _So pretty_ , and Minho can't stop the tears that escape his eyes. Really, he can't stop them, not when Jisung is holding him like he's the earth and treating him like he's something precious.

When he pulls back and sees Minho's wet cheeks, he stops thrusting, eyes growing wide in alarm.

"Wha—Should I stop?"

Minho has cried from pleasure an embarrassing amount of times so far, but he supposes it must look a little different this time around, considering the fact that he's _unwell_ or whatever.

"No, no, don't stop," Minho croaks, because he honestly feels so good but also because he's afraid that the turmoil really _will_ tear him apart once the distraction is gone. "I just... _Don't stop_."

"Shhh, okay," Jisung hums, dropping a kiss on his forehead and wiping his damp cheeks. "Overwhelmed? Do you wanna change it up?"

Minho nods. "Can you just, um... go harder?"

That should work, at least for now.

Jisung obeys within seconds, placing his hands on either side of Minho's head and thrusting in _hard_. Minho lets out a sob, pleased to discover that the change in pace is powerful enough to distract him from whatever sticky feelings started to take over.

" _Oh my god_ ," he cries, toes curling as Jisung's hips speed up, as he's fucked into the mattress _deliciously_ hard. It's intense; it's everything he needs right now to drown out the echoes that won't allow his brain a moment's peace.

"How's that?" Jisung breathes in his ear before kissing down his neck, pausing to nip at some spots, which only drives Minho even closer to the edge. And then Jisung is pushing himself up to snake a hand down and wrap it around his cock, stroking hard and fast to match his thrusts, and Minho is coming all over himself without warning.

He feels something inside him snap as he sobs out Jisung's name, but he's too distracted to figure out what it is, too buried in the heat of his orgasm—which he supposes is a good thing.

However, it's no less intense than the last time. He's left feeling like he's lost all senses, and the similarity unsettles him, makes him wary about how he may react once the distraction is gone.

Jisung giggles in his ear, clearly content with how quickly he was able to make Minho orgasm, though he doesn't last much longer. Minho pushes aside the overwhelming effects of his own high and wraps his legs around Jisung's waist tight, rolling his hips up with what energy he has left and pulling the younger's hair in a way that he's come to know he thoroughly enjoys.

"Minho, _fuck_. Oh, fuck," Jisung moans, and a few thrusts later, he's filling up the condom, hips stuttering and falling still against Minho's. No other words come out of his mouth, no _I love you more than anything_. Minho doesn't know if that makes him feel better or worse.

They're left with a thick, exhausted silence, slumped against each other and breathing deeply for at least a minute before Jisung forces himself up and pulls out so he can conduct their typical lazy clean-up routine.

Minho lies still in the meantime, numb and tense as Jisung wipes the cum from his stomach and tosses the tissues. His heart begins to race, dread overfilling him when the younger comes back over to lie down and kiss Minho's forehead.

Oh, god. He doesn't feel better. He doesn't feel better at—

"How do you feel, baby?" Jisung asks, running a hand through his hair affectionately.

He bursts into tears.

" _Minho?_ " Jisung chokes on a gasp, taking his face into his hands, though Minho's eyes are already squeezed shut. "Baby, wha— _Are you okay?_ "

 _Stop calling me that_ , Minho wants to scream, but he can't speak.

"Hey," Jisung murmurs. He sounds broken, almost, and Minho doesn't dare open his eyes and see how he _looks_. "Come here, sweet boy." Minho's heart does a painful flip. "Did I hurt you? Why didn't you tell me—"

"No," Minho finally chokes out. He might feel burdened by the feelings Jisung evokes, but when it comes down to it, none of this is his fault. None of the blame is on him, only _Minho_ for letting it happen. "N-No, it's not the sex." He hiccups, nearly choking on his own tears. "Please don't think—Don't think it's you."

"All right, okay," Jisung murmurs in an attempt to calm him down. "Not the sex, got it. Come here, lemme hug you."

Minho lets himself be tugged into Jisung's lap, lets the younger boy hold him suffocatingly tight as though he's trying to glue him back together. He can't, but the efforts are appreciated all the same.

"I'm here," Jisung whispers, pressing kisses to his hair and rocking him slightly. "Hang on." He shifts him to the side a little and reaches for something, and then he's pulling a sweatshirt over Minho's head.

It's Jisung's. Minho starts to cry harder.

"Oh, baby, shhh," Jisung whispers. Minho desperately wishes he were well enough to comfort him, melt down the worry in his voice, but he just isn't.

He isn't well. He isn't okay.

"Sorry," is all he can manage. He knows Jisung won't acknowledge the apology, but he still feels sick to his stomach making him witness this.

It isn't as though he never cries, never breaks down. He's not a _rock_. But he at least tries to keep it away from the people he cares about, tries to deal with it himself.

"Don't you dare," Jisung mutters, fingers brushing against the tear tracks on his skin. "I love you, okay?"

Minho lets out an embarrassing sob.

"Am I making it worse?" Jisung tries to joke, but Minho can tell he's serious. He shakes his head, nuzzling into the younger's neck in a way that he hopes is somewhat reassuring. "You tired? Wanna lie down?"

He shifts so they're flat on the mattress, Minho splayed across his chest. Jisung is completely naked, but he doesn't seem to care; soon, there's a blanket draped over them both and fingers in Minho's hair.

Minho nods and hugs him tighter. Yeah, he _is_ tired, but not in the way Jisung thinks.

He’s tired of feeling something he can’t place, tired of being confused. Tired of wondering whether he’s made the worst decision of his life. He doesn’t know what’s happening anymore, and even if he did, he has a feeling that it’s completely out of his control.

He just wants it to _stop_.

* * *

It doesn't.

When he wakes up, his stomach is on the floor. Jisung seems to be asleep below him, so Minho takes the moment to admire how pretty his best friend is.

_Best friend._

He tries not to tell himself that he's ruined them, that he's losing touch with the most important person in his life, but the sickness that never seems to leave his gut now is far from reassuring.

For now, though, he'll admire the sight below him, drink in the beauty of that person, just in case things _do_ turn south for the two of them.

He brushes his fingers along the younger's side and smiles when he shifts around in his sleep, letting out a soft hum, and then—

Minho's eyes widen. God, is he really _hard_ right now?

He manages a laugh in spite of how shitty he feels, and suddenly he feels a pressing urge to take care of the younger.

"Jisungie," he mutters, voice raspy from crying. He clears his throat and tries again, digging his fingers into Jisung's sides for extra help. "Han Jisung."

"What the— _Stop_ ," Jisung groans, eyes slowly blinking open to squint at him. He wiggles away from Minho's tickling hand and then freezes, gaze shifting to his own erection. "Ah, _fuck_."

Minho smiles softly, trailing his fingers along Jisung's stomach now. Something about his best friend has him so incredibly fond right now. Maybe it's the fact that he held him while he cried. Or maybe it's the fact that he's Jisung.

"Can I touch you?" he whispers, hand inching lower. Jisung flushes, eyeing him carefully.

"Hey, do you... feel up to it?"

"Yes," Minho breathes, and he means it. He needs to make Jisung feel good right now, needs it like he needs air. He needs a way to tell him everything he can't say.

So he wraps a hand around Jisung's cock and leans down to connect their lips.

"Fuck," Jisung breathes into his mouth, hips jerking up. "God, get lube or something. Your hand is too dry."

Minho giggles, adoration swimming in his veins despite the younger’s complaints. "I have a better idea."

He scoots down to wrap his lips around Jisung's cock, then, drawing a gasp out of the younger boy. He takes him into his mouth easily, sinking down and losing himself in the pretty sounds entering the air. They're music to his ears.

After a minute or so, he pulls off to catch his breath and jerks Jisung off in the meantime, carefully watching as he falls apart against the pillows, clearly still sensitive from earlier.

He's so pretty.

"You're so pretty," Minho murmurs, then smiles when Jisung lets out a quiet whine. He keeps going, happy to do anything that'll make him feel good, anything that'll convey how much he loves him. "You're beautiful."

" _Minho_."

Minho crawls up so he can kiss him again, sucking on his tongue and jerking him off faster. He's not even the one being touched yet he feels so intensely, he's close to tears again.

"I'm not—I'm seriously not gonna last."

"That's okay." Minho kisses his cheek, his jaw, his neck. God, he's perfect. "You—You're perfect."

Jisung moans, hips stuttering up into Minho's hand. " _Shit_."

Minho pulls away to watch his face as he speeds up his strokes, nearly freezing at how unreal the sight before his eyes is. Jisung looks so pretty, so gone, so overtaken with pleasure. Minho's lower lip wobbles.

He's everything.

"You're everything," Minho tells him, and then Jisung is releasing onto his hand, his back arching off the bed, his mouth falling open with a strangled noise.

Minho gets off the bed before he can cry again, grabs the half-empty tissue box, and returns to clean up the impromptu mess. Jisung watches him silently.

"Did you mean all that?" he asks, quiet, when Minho sits down on the bed again. "Or were you just trying to get me off faster?"

"I meant it," Minho says without a doubt. Of course he meant it.

Jisung smiles at him like _he's_ everything, and suddenly Minho feels like he's been dragged back down to hell.

"Would you like me to reciprocate?" Jisung asks, glancing at his semi-boner. He quickly shakes his head.

"Too sensitive," he lies.

It isn't his dick that's sensitive.

"Such a baby," Jisung teases, and Minho's entire body lights on fire, despite the fact that the pet name isn't even directed at him _nicely_. "Okay, I'm gonna go heat up leftovers. Want anything?"

Minho shakes his head again, not trusting himself to speak.

_Why is this happening to him?_

The instant Jisung leaves the room, there are tears on his cheeks again. He furiously wipes them away, disbelieving of his lack of control today, _every_ day. Whatever happened earlier can’t happen again.

He doesn’t know how he’ll get through this, this cycle of _hell_ and feelings he doesn't want nor understand, but he doesn’t have much of a choice other than to figure it out soon, lest he destroy everything.

Lest he _lose_ everything.

That scares him most of all, so he lets out a sob and swallows back the rest.

He can’t let this happen.

* * *

It all happens so fast, too fast.

If he was _scared_ before, he's _terrified_ now, because what he originally hoped wasn't true...

Well, it's getting harder and harder to disprove.

Jisung's lips are soft on his, soft and warm and sweet, basically a complete contrast to the conditions in the pit of Minho’s stomach.

Sharp, cold, bitter.

He hasn't cried again, and he's thankful for that, but he almost wishes he were crying rather than feeling like this. Rather than feeling his internal angst swelling like a balloon, threatening to pop at any moment. He doesn't know what will happen if it pops. Will it hurt him? Will it hurt _Jisung?_

He can't let himself hurt Jisung. He knows that much.

And for that reason, he lets out a soft laugh against Jisung's lips instead of a broken cry, pulls him in closer instead of pushing him away and hiding forever like he wants to.

It gets worse every day. It gets worse when Jisung shows up to his apartment in the middle of the night because it's _too cold to sleep alone_ , when Jisung sends him every video of a cat he finds on the internet, when Jisung goes out to buy them snacks while Minho's napping off his post-orgasm exhaustion. It gets worse even when Jisung does things, says things, that he already did _before_ this all started.

It gets worse when Jisung pulls him onto his lap and runs his fingers gently up his back, under his shirt, feather-light and everything but the rough, emotionless touches he needs in order to snap out of this.

Though, to be honest, he isn't even sure the roughness would do a thing to help at this point.

All they’ve done for the past ten minutes is exchange gentle kisses, but he feels Jisung start to grow hard underneath him within seconds. It's unreasonably cute.

Jisung is unreasonably cute.

He forces down the nausea that constantly lingers in his stomach—puts a blanket over it, more like—and scoots back to snake his hand down to Jisung's bulge on instinct.

"Wanna...?" he mumbles. He doesn't know how many touches from Jisung it'll take for the balloon to pop, but he supposes he may as well be selfish and get as many as he can before it does.

Jisung gives him a strange look and shakes his head. Minho's throat instantly closes up. He’s never turned him down like that, not with _that_ look on his face. Oh, god, does he want to stop hooking up? Just like that? Maybe that's for the best. But still—

"You're not feeling great today," the younger further elaborates. Minho's breath freezes in his lungs. "I can tell."

He stares for a second, lips parted, and then he's blinking back tears. Somehow, he's left feeling even more flustered than when Jisung offered sex _because_ Minho wasn't feeling great. Honestly, it may just be that Minho scared him off with his tears that time, thus why he rejected him _this_ time, but he can't help the warmth that shoots through his heart almost painfully fast.

Jisung’s right. He doesn’t feel great at all today. But he _never_ feels great these days, so it doesn't make much of a difference how he feels _today_.

"Minho."

Minho swallows, realizing he must’ve spaced out.

"Hm?"

Jisung doesn't say anything, though. No, he cups Minho's face and kisses him instead.

It's the softest kiss he's ever received. He inhales sharply against Jisung's mouth, heart pounding when the younger presses his lips to his a little more firmly, though gentle as ever, and then pulls away to rub their noses together.

It's _suffocating_.

"You're okay," he murmurs, and oh, shit. Oh, shit, he better stop before Minho cries in front of him again. "I don't know what's going on with you, but whatever it is, I'm here. Okay?"

Minho squeezes his eyes shut, body suddenly hot all over.

 _Don't cry_.

"Minho."

 _Don't do it_.

"Look at me."

 _Don't_.

He takes the risk and opens his eyes to meet Jisung's shining ones, and of course, his tear ducts fail him almost immediately. Jisung doesn't freak out this time, doesn't pull back, alarmed. He only continues to stare at Minho with his lips twisted into a pout and his expression solemn, like he expected this, possibly.

Minho has been such an emotional burden, Jisung isn't even _surprised_ anymore.

"Baby," he whispers, extra quiet, thumbs running across the hot tears. Minho's lower lip quivers. "What is it?"

This is it. This is his chance to tell Jisung he can't do this anymore. Tell him that what they're doing is getting in the way of their friendship. He could probably opt to leave out the part where _he's pretty sure he's falling in love with him or something_ , but he can tell him everything else.

Except he _won’t_. He won’t tell him anything at all, not when he’s self-destructive and selfish.

"I just don't feel well," he manages after a moment. Jisung clearly doesn't buy it, but he doesn't press for a better answer.

"Okay," he says, cautious. "It's just—I've never seen you cry like this."

Minho's blood rushes with shame. "I'm sorry."

Jisung shakes his head and kisses his lips again. "I wasn't asking for an apology. I was asking if you're okay. I want you to be okay—no, _need_ you to be okay." Minho holds back a sob. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

There’s a lot he can do.

He can stop looking at Minho like he's the universe, for one, stop touching him with all the care in the world, stop kissing him softly and speaking to him with even _more_ softness. He can stop being the most perfect person Minho has ever known, stop being _Han Jisung_.

Minho would never want him to stop being Han Jisung, though.

Jisung's hands drop from his cheeks before he can respond, and his heart deflates, already missing the touch despite how badly it stung.

"Is it the sex and stuff?"

Minho tenses. He already told Jisung it wasn't the sex, but maybe he wasn't convincing. No, he probably wasn't at all, seeing he's here crying in Jisung's arms a _second time_.

"Do you want to stop?"

 _Want_ to, no. _Need_ to, yes. He needs to stop. They need to stop. They need to stop before Minho loses complete control, before the balloon inside him pops. They need to stop.

He doesn't want to stop, though. He wants Jisung so badly right now, so selfishly, no matter how much it stings, burns, tortures him. He wants him just a little more. At least once more.

Once more. He'll allow himself to have Jisung one more time.

"Not yet," is what he finally settles on.

Once more.

"Okay," Jisung says again, and then he's lying down and shifting so Minho can curl up on him like he's done a little too often lately. He sounds so heartbreakingly distressed, Minho can't help but cup his face and press a kiss to his cheek in an effort to soothe him. He won't be able to soon, anyway. Won't be able to kiss Jisung like this, touch him like has, see him in his rawest and most vulnerable state.

He’ll let himself experience it once more.

Just one more time.

* * *

One more time. That's what he promised himself.

He lies on his bed, thumbing across the coin in his hand; the necklace is secured around his throat, has stayed there since Jisung gave it to him, actually.

Speaking of the devil, Jisung texted him about five minutes ago.

_do u have any condoms left...?_

Minho laughed out loud at his completely unsubtle attempt at proposing sex, and then his throat closed up. Five minutes later, it hasn’t opened.

They need to stop. That's his final answer, his solution to the crashing waves of turmoil drowning his lungs.

Still, he stands from the bed after reading the text and checks his drawer. There's one more condom left from the three-pack he bought a few weeks ago.

God, they do this so much.

He's going to miss it.

For a few minutes, he shifts from foot to foot, staring at the condom as if waiting for it to tell him what to do. He's stuck between lying, telling Jisung he's out so he can put off the inevitable conversation they'll have to end this, or ripping off the band-aid and indulging himself once more.

He doesn't think he deserves one more time, especially considering how dishonest he's being, how _fucked_ up by emotions he's too weak to even label. But he's weak for Jisung, and he always has been.

He turns over the coin in his hand, now. It's stupid, but he doesn't trust himself to decide this on his own. May as well leave it up to fate or whatever.

He flips it, then, squeezing his eyes shut for about five seconds to avoid the results. Reluctantly, he cracks them open.

 _Heads_.

Heads has always been his, tails Jisung's.

 _Fuck_. Okay.

He doesn't let himself dwell on it for another moment, texting Jisung back so quickly he makes two typos, and then he's splayed out on his bed like a starfish, completely still, trying not to think about the impending doom. At the very least, he wants to enjoy himself this last time, bring himself and Jisung both to the highest peak of euphoria before he's dragged back down to hell.

Part of him hopes maybe something will change; maybe this time he'll revert to normal, stay planted on earth, realize he's been caught up in some delusion. Most of him knows that won't happen.

* * *

For a second, though, he's convinced.

Jisung is remarkably bright today. He's always bright, of course, but it's different today. Blinding. Bright enough to outshine Minho's darkness.

He supposes there isn't a better way to end this.

There's only one finger inside of him, and he can hardly think straight already, can hardly feel anything aside from the bursts of pleasure overtaking him.

 _I'm gonna edge you today_ , Jisung told him the second he walked into Minho's room. Minho wanted to protest, neglect their bucket list this time, their _last_ time. Not that he doesn't want to try that, but just like the first time, he feels that the last time should be meaningful.

But meaningful would probably hurt, and he's tired of hurting. He'll have plenty of time to hurt after. Possibly a lifetime, if things go as poorly as he fears.

So he said yes, decided to let Jisung have his way with him for the very last time, let him crawl between his legs and kiss all the sensitive parts of his thighs while teasing him. Maybe trying something new will help him steer clear of any emotional malfunctions. And, on a selfish note, maybe the edging will make it last longer.

He doesn't want it to end, but he doesn't have a choice but to let it.

"Shit," he hisses, head tossed back. " _God_ , how do you do this?"

Jisung giggles. "I know you inside out, Lee Minho."

Minho inhales shakily. The words sting, but only for a moment, because Jisung's finger is brushing against his prostate again. It hardly took him any time at all to find it; that's how well he knows Minho's body now. _Inside out_.

It's a shame that this is the last time he'll ever need the knowledge.

However, Minho doesn't think about that, only thinks about how good the stretch feels when Jisung adds another finger. How _amazing_ Jisung makes him feel like this, how this is the last time he'll ever feel so good at the hands of his best friend.

No—He doesn't think about that, either.

" _Jisung_ ," he whimpers, trying to grind down on the two fingers, but he's quickly held still against the mattress.

"Don't move," Jisung commands, but his voice is only teasing. "You asked for this, remember?"

Minho only huffs, then whines in shock when Jisung's mouth is suddenly on his erection, pressing wet kisses up the length of it. The younger withdraws his fingers to focus on his new efforts, one hand wrapping around Minho's cock while the other presses him down at the hip.

"Oh, _fuck_ , Jisung," Minho cries, squirming below him. "Fuck, come on."

Jisung hums and continues, even when his hips violently stutter, suckling at the head of his cock and bobbing his head. He only pulls off after a minute to ask, "Wanna fuck my face?"

" _No!_ " Minho protests immediately. His body screams _Yes!_ and he knows that this is something Jisung likes to do an abnormal amount, but he won't _last_ if he does it. It _has_ to last, at least a little longer. "Want me to come in _thirty seconds?_ "

"Ugh. You're no fun," Jisung grumbles, but then he's going down again and bobbing his head fast, dangerously fast, practically shoving Minho's cock down his own throat.

Minho nearly _screams_ , back arching off the bed and _actually_ fucking Jisung's mouth, just not intentionally. Jisung moans around his cock, sucking harder, ignoring Minho's loud whines and cries.

"Fuck me, _please_ ," he breathes, hands twisting in the sheets. "I'm not gonna last. I'm not gonna."

Jisung finally pulls off and offers him a sweet smile. "No."

And then there are fingers sliding into him, three this time. His back arches again, thighs squeezing together at the abrupt sensation. He doesn't bother asking Jisung to hurry again, but he _does_ give him an earful, far past being ashamed of how noisy he is. This is the last time he'll have to hear it, anyway.

"You sound so pretty," the younger whispers, and the words do absolutely nothing to falter the building pressure in Minho's stomach.

" _God_ ," he cries out, trying to move his hips and intensify the stimulation, but then Jisung is removing his fingers again and sliding his _tongue_ inside. Minho yelps, his toes curling. " _Fuck_ , Jisung, please. _Please_."

This is the second time Jisung has done this to him; the first time brought him to orgasm so quickly, he hasn't suggested it since, out of pure embarrassment.

He doesn't want that to happen again. He wants this to _last_ , damn it.

Thankfully, Jisung lifts his head before Minho can burst and crawls up to connect their lips. Minho can taste the citrus-flavored lube that the younger convinced him to buy strong on his tongue, but he can still taste the Jisung under it, the natural sweetness.

He's going to miss it.

Before he can taste any more, Jisung is gone, lips pressing kisses down his torso, pausing to suck hickeys, marks that will stay for days but eventually fade, leaving Minho with no proof that any of this was ever real.

That's for the best, probably.

And then his lips are suddenly around Minho’s cock again, eliciting a choked gasp from his throat. "Jisung," he warns, hips starting to lift off the bed, but the younger easily pushes them down again. He whines, frustrated. " _Jisung_."

They've done quite a bit during their explorations, but he swears this is the most attention he's ever gotten. It’s like Jisung is purposely taking his sweet time, taking extra care to stimulate Minho in every possible way, make him feel as good as he possibly can.

It's intimate, overwhelming, _too much_.

Maybe it's better if this doesn't last. Maybe it's better if the band-aid comes off before Minho can fall harder and wound himself even worse, possibly _both_ of them.

When Jisung pulls off his cock for air, he has hope that he's finally done with his teasing, but then there are lips on his thighs, kissing and licking and leaving marks on all the parts the younger knows to be most sensitive.

 _How_ does he know Minho so well? _How_ did this happen?

"Jisung," is all Minho can say at this point, so wound up, so frustrated, so full of _love that he can't let out_.

"Shhh," is how Jisung responds, thumbs rubbing circles against Minho's skin as he creates more hickeys, like he's purposely trying to mark up every inch of him.

Minho wishes that were true. He also wishes the marks would never fade.

He wishes this would last forever.

Minho is so caught up in this disastrous whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, he hardly registers that Jisung is sliding his fingers back into him until they're curling up, sending a jolt of electricity through him and drawing a pathetic whine from his lips.

" _Fuck!_ " he cries, eyes squeezing shut to avoid the possibility of tears. "Jisung, fuck, _please_."

"You're so cute, you know that?"

Minho almost sobs.

"Mm, you're perfect."

Why? Why is he doing this to him?

"N-No," Minho tries to protest, shuddering and moaning when Jisung's fingers keep up their accuracy. Then there are lips on his neck, fingers on his nipples, more praises whispered into his skin. He won't last. He won't. "Jisung I'm not—" His back arches off the bed; his mouth falls open with a loud cry. "I'm gonna—Please."

Jisung hushes him more, kissing over all the marks he scattered across Minho's torso like they have all the time in the world.

They _don't_.

Minho's about to come, and then they're never doing this again.

"Pl-Please," he whispers, desperate to feel close to Jisung one last time, selfishly take everything he can get from the person he loves most in the world. "Jisung, please. Please, I _need_ you."

He means those words in more ways than he'd like to admit.

Jisung stops again, and Minho kicks his legs in frustration, tears leaving the corners of his eyes. " _Please_."

The younger doesn't say a word, doesn't move an inch. Minho feels like he's _losing_ it.

"Jisung, come on _._ Please, you've edged me enough now. Come _on_."

Honestly, he hasn't edged him much at all, but Minho needs him so badly, he can't go another second without feeling him.

When Jisung _still_ doesn't respond, he lifts his head and blinks the tears out of his eyes to see his best friend staring at him like he just fell from the sky. Like he's never seen him in his life.

Wha—?

Did he finally make things weird just now?

"Jisung?" he mumbles, swallowing nervously, the arousal starting to flee from his body. Before it can continue, though, Jisung is crawling toward him and grabbing his face tight between his hands. He stares up at the younger in shock. "What are you—"

"Shut up," Jisung cuts him off, eyes wide and desperate. Minho's soul is sucked from his body, leaving him ice cold. Oh, god, this was the final straw, wasn’t it? Oh, god, he fucked up. He fucked up. He—

"I have to tell you something."

He blinks, trying to calm his pounding heart, trying to make sense of the terrifyingly abrupt shift in mood. "Huh?"

Is Jisung going to break things off _now?_ In the middle of _sex?_ Before Minho even has the chance—

"I love you."

 _Oh_.

Minho blinks again. And again.

He didn't mean it like that, right? Surely he didn't—

"I mean it like that." He sees Jisung swallow. "I mean it."

 _Oh_.

More tears leave Minho's eyes—not the ones he was crying just now, though. Jisung's lips fade into a guilty frown, fingers moving to wipe away the wetness.

"I'm sorry, Minho."

Minho shakes his head, trying to tell Jisung he's not crying because he's upset.

No, he's crying because all of the sickness, the turmoil, the hurt, the pain—all of it, every ounce of it, was just drained from his body in the span of a second, leaving him dry and breathless and speechless and awed and so overwhelmed with emotion that he cannot move a muscle.

Jisung... loves him?

No he doesn't. No, that's not possible.

"I—" Jisung swallows again, and there are tears in the corners of _his_ eyes, and Minho wants to scream at him, beg him not to cry. "I meant to end this already. I didn't mean to—to do this today. I wanted _last_ time to be the last time, but I was weak."

Minho stares at him in disbelief. He feels more tears soak his skin and does everything in his power to remember how to move, how to think, how to speak. It isn't until he sees the sparkles in Jisung's eyes begin to disappear one by one that he finds the strength.

"Me too."

Jisung inhales sharply through his nose. He doesn't say anything, only looks at Minho with his eyebrows furrowed.

"I'm weak," Minho continues, choking over his words but needing to let them out before he can process Jisung's. "I didn't want this to happen. I fucking—" He stops to laugh. "I flipped the coin because I didn't know what to do, whether to end it now, or..."

Jisung looks so _confused_ still, Minho huffs and yanks him down for a kiss.

"I love you," he mumbles against Jisung’s mouth, and just like that, he feels the crashing waves in his chest smooth out into peaceful ripples. (Was that really all he had to do to tame them?) "I mean it like that."

He feels Jisung jolt, and then the younger is pulling back and staring down at him again with eyes wider than the entire _planet_.

"You _huh?_ " he splutters.

"Don't make me say it again," Minho groans, but he's sniffling again with more tears, _happy_ tears, forming in his eyes.

Jisung loves him. Jisung _loves_ him. _Jisung_ loves _him_.

"You...?"

"I love you."

Jisung's eyes dart all over his face in shock, and Minho can only giggle at how adorably comedic his reaction is.

God, he loves him.

And then his face is buried in Minho's neck, tears wetting his skin.

"Jisungie..." Minho murmurs, unable to hold back the smile on his face as he wraps his arms tightly around the younger's body. "You crybaby, say something, will you?"

Jisung lets out a muffled scoff. "Says _you_."

Minho doesn't retort, only hugs him tighter. "I love you," he repeats.

"Holy shit," Jisung mutters against his skin, then pulls back. "I love you so much." He kisses Minho's lips for a second. "But this wasn't how I wanted to tell you. I really shouldn't have started this, this entire thing. I felt so selfish the whole time, because I should've told you before—"

"Huh?" Minho cries. "What do you mean _before?_ "

Jisung ducks his head sheepishly.

" _Before?_ " Minho repeats. "Before _this?_ "

"Um. Sorry."

"You're lying," Minho whispers. "You're _lying_. I was... I was fucking _losing_ it, Jisung, and you were always so _calm_. No way. No way—"

"Gets easier with time," Jisung says with a shrug.

"With _time?_ " Minho's eyes are bulging now. " _Time?_ How much _time?_ "

"Since, uh... Since you left for college?"

Minho shoots up into a sitting position, knocking Jisung off his lap.

"You fucking... _Five_ _years?_ "

Jisung glares at him. "You're barely a _third_ year, dumbass."

"That's—The math doesn't matter," Minho chokes out. "What the fuck?"

Jisung _loves_ him. Jisung _has_ loved him.

"Yep," the younger hums, _chill_ as always, lying down and pulling Minho on top of him now. "Your turn. When did you...?"

"Fuck, I don't even know," Minho says with a laugh. "A lot longer than I think. I was so confused. Really, I couldn't figure out why I felt so..."

Jisung laughs. "You're lucky I'm patient."

"Shut up," Minho breathes. "I can't believe this." He tilts his head up to meet Jisung's lips again and moves to straddle him, swelling with energy.

"You better believe it," Jisung whispers back before kissing Minho harder, hands gripping his waist securely. "I love you so much."

Minho whimpers against his mouth, then again when his erection, which has gone down partially but not completely, brushes against Jisung's thigh.

"Will you let me come now?" he mumbles against the younger's lips. "I don't think I'm all that into the edging. Too impatient. Maybe _you'd_ like it, though."

"Probably," Jisung agrees. "Wait—" He pulls back and narrows his eyes. "That's really what your mind is on? _Nutting?_ "

"Oh, stop that," Minho whines, face heating up. "Don't you wanna make love?" It heats up even _more_ when the words leave his mouth. He rushes to continue. "Plus, it'll, you know, actually mean something now."

"It always meant something," Jisung says. Minho feels his heart swell, feels the balloon of angst inside him softly deflate.

"True, but we were too stupid to admit it."

"We're _still_ stupid."

Minho huffs, but he can't stop smiling for the _life_ of him. "Do you want to fuck or not?"

Jisung giggles at his impatience, and in less than a second Minho is on his back with lips pressed against his. Soon, the younger pulls back though, eyes solemn.

"Wait, are we..." he trails off and chews on his lower lip for a moment. "Are we, like, you know...?"

"What?" Minho asks, trying to bite back a laugh. He knows exactly what Jisung is asking, but it's always nice to tease him, and he hasn't been able to much lately, too caught up in his own feelings.

"Okay, fine," Jisung huffs. He takes Minho's face between his hands. "Will you—"

"Wait!" Minho yelps. "I wanna do it."

"The fuck?" Jisung narrows his eyes. "No, _me_. I'm the one who—"

"Well, I don't care," Minho cuts him off. "It's _my_ turn, anyway. Will you... Where the fuck are you going?"

Jisung has clambered off of him suddenly, off the bed entirely. "Where's the goddamn coin?"

"What?" Minho laughs. "Why do we need my coin?"

"Because we're never going to make it to the dating part if we don't settle this," Jisung grumbles. "Where is it?"

"It's..." Minho bites his lip and turns over one of his pillows. "Here."

Jisung cocks an eyebrow. "You _sleep_ with it? Do you, like, have _feelings_ for it or something?"

"It's not like that!" Minho cries with a scowl, but he wraps himself around Jisung the moment he’s on his bed again and presses a soft kiss to his lips. "I swear I don't love it like that. Only you."

He receives both an eye roll and an extra kiss in response, and then Jisung is pulling back and taking his hand as he balances the coin on his thumb, just like he did the very first time.

"Heads or tails?"

**Author's Note:**

> ...whew. i actually don't know what to say, but thank you for sticking through this big mess!! bless minsung mod's heart for being so lovely and patient. also bless [dawnshine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dawnshine) who edited my shitty grammar last second ♡ 
> 
> make sure you go check out the [ficathon twitter](https://twitter.com/minsungficathon) and look at the other fics in the collection as well!!!!
> 
> **p.s.** i listened to know me too well by new hope club & danna paola 676 times while writing this fic. i just felt the need to share that. (that's the song lino sang in his second vlog, btw, if you don't know it. hehe)
> 
> —
> 
> ★ nsfw twt: @[hanknowz](https://www.twitter.com/hanknowz)   
>  ★ sfw twt: @[leeknwoz](https://www.twitter.com/leeknwoz)   
>  ★ curiouscat: [hanknowz](https://curiouscat.qa/hanknowz)


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